First A Dream
by firstadream
Summary: "I don't want you to move on..." Post 5x16 story. What should've happened between Booth and Brennan. B/B fluff.
1. I Don't Want You to Move On

"Booth?"

At first, Booth thought he was dreaming. It wouldn't be the first time Bones appeared in his bedroom in one of his dreams. Although, when his subconscious was in charge, she was usually naked and pressed up against him, not hovering in the doorway calling out his name hesitantly.

"Booth?"

The second time she said his name, he woke up, at least partly. "Bones?" he mumbled, opening his eyes. She was standing beside his bed looking solid and clothed and very real. Not dream-like at all. Confusion, more than anything, urged him the rest of the way into consciousness. "Bones! What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

He struggled to kick the sheets away from his body as he stood up, peering at her in the dim light. "Bones?" he queried again when she didn't say anything.

"I'm fine, Booth."

He looked her up and down as if to reassure himself that this was true, before letting his gaze rest on her face. She looked tired and as confused as he felt. They were both silent for a long time. "Um, Bones?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you in my bedroom?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but after a moment, closed it again. She crossed her arms and looked at the ground, letting out a sigh that sounded almost annoyed. "I don't know," she finally said. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Okay," he said gently, sensing her agitation. "Do you want to…" He trailed off. This felt so surreal. Bones was in his bedroom. At three o'clock in the morning. He had fantasized about this so many times. Somehow, he had imagined it differently. "Do you want a drink? Some coffee?"

He began to move past her toward the door but her voice stopped him. "I think…I don't want you to move on."

He turned around. "What?"

"I think I don't want you to move on," she said again, this time with more conviction. "After you drove me home, I tried to fall asleep, but I couldn't. I had this…this feeling. It was like someone was squeezing my heart." She frowned. "It was very unpleasant. And I just kept thinking…" She trailed off and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not making any sense."

He smiled at her. "No, you're making perfect sense actually."

"But it's not rational. None of this is rational. And I'm so…I'm so confused." She shook her head as frustrated tears filled her eyes. "I don't know how to let you in," she admitted softly. "I don't know how to change."

He took a step forward and reached for her, but she moved out of his reach, her arms crossed firmly across her chest. "Bones, come here," he told her.

Normally, she would've balked at the note of command in his voice, given him a long lecture about how he had no right to tell her what to do. But tonight, she didn't. She didn't go to him, but she did uncross her arms and lean into him as he closed the space between them. She did rest her hands against his chest as he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. They stood like that for a long time, in the shaft of light shining dimly from the hallway. The seconds ticked by and she gradually relaxed against him. She moved her head from his shoulder to the center of his chest, resting it just under his chin. He could feel her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, holding it loosely in her hands. Then, in a moment of complete trust, she tucked her arms underneath her chest and leaned against him, letting him support her entire body weight. If he moved, she would fall, and yet she didn't care. In that moment, she allowed herself the luxury of depending on him. In that moment, she was his.

Booth didn't know who began to move toward the bed first, but suddenly, he was pulling back the covers and she was lying down _in his bed_. As she rested her head against a pillow that smelled like him, she glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure he was following suit. He was, of course. He eased himself onto the mattress beside her, carefully leaving a full three inches between their bodies. To his surprise, however, she almost immediately scooted back against him, giving him permission to eliminate the remaining space between them. He didn't need any more invitation than that. He slipped one arm underneath her and draped the other over her stomach, tugging her body backwards until her back was pressed flush against his chest. He rested his head in the curve of her neck and heard a soft sigh escape her as his lips brushed against her shoulder. "Night, Bones," he murmured.

"Night, Booth."

Booth woke up before his alarm clock and shut it off before it could wake up Brennan. He didn't want it to be morning. He didn't want her to have an excuse to leave. He still couldn't believe she was here. In his bed, in his arms. _I don't want you to move on. _It wasn't exactly an admission of love, but it might be as close as he would get with her.

Beside him, Brennan sighed softly in her sleep and Booth couldn't help but grin. _I don't want you to move on. _Looking at her now, as she scrunched up her nose in the most adorable way and pressed closer to him, he couldn't imagine ever moving on. He didn't know how he ever could. Unable to resist, (he was no saint), he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. Even though he tried not to disturb her, the feeling of his lips against her skin, no matter how soft, was enough to lift her out of sleep. In that transition into consciousness, she turned in his arms and yawned, stretching her body against his. As she pressed her breasts to his chest, he tried to stifle a moan but didn't quite succeed and suddenly she was wide awake.

"Booth," she said, her voice startled and little bit too loud.

"Bones," he echoed, trying to gage her reaction and hoping to God she wouldn't freak out.

She was still for a moment, too still, and then she pulled away abruptly. She leapt off the mattress and stood on the other side of the bed from him. They were motionless and silent for a minute, each regarding the other cautiously and then she declared that she had to go. She practically ran from the room and he was just able to catch up to her at the front door. "Bones, wait," he said, hurrying over to where she was standing, hand on the doorknob, poised for a quick escape.

"Last night was a mistake, Booth," she said quickly before he could get a word in.

"But nothing happened," he said.

"I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have…" _Let you in. _

Booth frowned. "You shouldn't have what?"

"Come over. I wasn't thinking clearly. I wasn't being rational. I—" _Put my heart in overdrive. _

"Bones, listen—"

"I have to go."

"Please don't run away." His voice was pleading.

"I'm not running away," she said. "I'm going to work."

"Bones…"

"I have to go," she said again, and then she was gone.

Brennan was hunched over a skeleton when Booth strode into the Jeffersonian later that morning. She didn't look up when he called out to her from the doorway. She didn't acknowledge his presence when he swiped his card and jogged onto the platform. She didn't even do her annoyed, pissy eye roll when he leaned over her shoulder, pretending to have an interest in the boring old bone she was inspecting. Instead, she simply said, "Booth, could you please move?"

He sighed. Loudly. "Bones, I need to talk to you."

"I'm working."

"You're always working."

"I enjoy working."

"Bones, could you at least look at me?"

She finally turned toward him, but not without a sigh and that eye roll he loved so much. "What do you want, Booth?"

"I want to talk to you," he said, trying not to lose his temper.

She frowned as if she was actually confused. "I don't see that there's anything for us to discuss. We're not working on a case and we don't have an appointment with Sweets until next week and—"

He held up his hands to cut her off. "Are you serious?" he demanded.

"I don't think anything I said could be construed as humorous—"

"It's a rhetorical question, Bones, okay? Rhetorical."

"Oh," she said. "Okay."

He took a moment to regain his composure; he didn't think it would be a good idea to strangle his partner in the middle of the Jeffersonian no matter how infuriating she was being. "We need to talk about last night."

For an instant, she looked frightened—genuinely frightened. But in a flash the fear was gone, replaced by a distant indifference. "There's nothing to talk about, Booth."

He moved closer to her, consciously invading her personal space. "Yes," he said, "there is." His voice was hard. It left no room for argument and she was forced to follow him when he turned and walked off the platform, heading for her office.

Always the gentleman, (even when he wanted to wring her neck), he held the door for her and closed it securely once she was inside. She stood beside her desk while he remained near the door, his arms crossed, his expression serious. "You don't want me to move on," he stated bluntly. He figured taking the direct route would be the only way they would ever get anywhere.

"No, that's not what I said." He was silent in his disbelief. Was she really going to deny her own words?

"But you said…"

"I said that I _think _I don't want you to move on. I was simply trying to determine an explanation for what I was feeling. It was pure conjecture."

"Bones," he said, his voice quiet and to her, unsettling, "I know you. I _know _you. You don't want me to move on, but you're too afraid to admit it."

"The only thing that can be established definitively is that the idea of you moving on makes me feel unpleasant. That does necessarily mean that I don't want you to move on."

"No, Bones, that's _exactly _what it means."

She frowned and dropped her eyes from his face, looking instead at the floor. "I hate psychology," she mumbled out of habit.

Sensing a crack in her defenses, he moved closer and waited for her to look at him again. When she finally did, the distance, the indifference, was gone. Instead, her eyes were filled with one simple plea: _please, let this go. _For a moment, he was tempted to do just that. He could see the fear and the vulnerability in her eyes. But he could also see the faith she still had in him, lurking beneath the surface. "If you don't want me to move on, I won't move on." His tone was gentle, but his words were terrifying.

"Booth, I can't do this. I can't—"

"Temperance," he said, catching her off guard with her given name. "Just say it. Say you don't want me to move on." He saw her jaw tense, the way she held her chin firm. He knew he was pushing her to the breaking point. He moved closer to her. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Just say it." He placed his hands at her waist, but she didn't lean into him like she had the night before. She held him at a distance, her hands pressed firmly to his chest. "Just say it."

He waited, then, for what seemed like hours. When she finally spoke, her voice trembled and shook. "I don't…I don't want you to…" She trailed off and looked at him, holding his gaze desperately. She was afraid it was the best she could do. "Please, Booth…"

He took pity on her then. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she gave into him, sliding her arms up his chest and around his neck. He kissed her hair and her temple and she let him. After a while, they both pulled back slightly. He smiled down at her and then watched as the most beautiful, hesitant smile spread slowly across her features. He wanted to kiss her, but paused for a moment. "You trust me?"

For an instant, she was quiet, feeling the weight of the moment, heavy in the air. Then she nodded and said, "I trust you," and he knew she really did.

Then he bent his head toward her upturned face and pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips. He pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing hers barely, to see if she was okay. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. He kissed her again and she parted her lips, sighing softly as his mouth melded with hers in a kiss that was both desperate and restrained, tender and hard. His body felt good against hers. For the first time in five and a half years, she allowed herself to enjoy the pleasure of his hands at the small of her back, his abdominal muscles firm against her stomach. She shifted onto her toes and reveled in the groan she elicited from him as her breasts pressed more firmly against his chest.

He shifted his lips to her neck and then nibbled his way back to her earlobe, before kissing the corner of her lips and, once again, her mouth. His kiss was softer this time and she smiled against his lips, leaning into him, running her fingers through his hair. When he finally pulled away, they both grinned at each other—outrageous, giddy, disbelieving grins. But then, gradually, her face turned serious. That fear he had seen only moments ago flashed in her eyes again. "You won't leave me?" she whispered.

Never before had she been so vulnerable, so needy with him and he wasn't going to scare her off with a half-hearted, flippant remark. His face was earnest. He held her gaze. "Temperance, I will _never _leave you."

Her face was at once both relieved and yet still hesitant. "I don't know if I can do this."

She didn't pull away when she said it. If anything, she moved closer. He realized she wasn't running away. She simply doubted herself. "You can do this," he assured her. "I'll help you."

Never one to accept help of any sort, he was surprised when she nodded and said, "Thank you."

He didn't want to let her go, but he had a pile of paper work waiting for him on his desk, so with one last, quick kiss, he stepped away. "I should get back to work," he said regretfully. "Do you want me to pick you up later?"

She smiled and nodded. "I would like that."

Angela watched as Booth and Brennan emerged from her office. They weren't touching, they weren't even talking to each other, but there was something intimate, almost tender, in the way he walked slightly behind her, his body angled towards her. In the way she lifted her gaze to his face and held his eye.

They walked together to the door and as Angela looked on, Booth smiled and said something that made her laugh. He then bent towards her, and for a moment, Angela thought he was going to kiss her, but at the last second, she lifted a hand to his chest and he redirected his lips to her forehead, kissing her in a way that was almost more loving, more protective than any kiss on the mouth could ever be.

Brennan watched Booth walk away and then turned around, making her way back to the platform where Angela was waiting, hands on hips, lips quirked into a knowing smirk. Brennan only glanced at her before directing her attention back to the bones she had been examining before Booth interrupted her.

"Sweetie," Angela said in a tone that said _I know your secret_.

Brenna didn't even turn to face her friend when she said, "Yes, Angela?"

"Do you realize that Booth just kissed you on the forehead?"

Brennan glanced over her shoulder and frowned at Angela. "Yes, I was there," she said in a tone that would've been sarcastic from anybody else.

"Sweetie, you know I love you, right? But I know a platonic kiss when I see one, and that kiss was definitely not platonic."

Brenna furrowed her brow. "How could you possible tell that from your vantage point of…what? Twenty yards away."

"I just could, okay? Now. Can we get to the point here?"

Brennan picked up a rib and peered at it. "I wasn't aware there was a point to this conversation."

Angela sighed and walked around to the other side of the table so that she could face her friend. "The point is, that _that _kiss was not platonic. That kiss was hot. Filled with desire and expectations and…and _sex._"

Brennan was incredulous. "You're getting all this from one kiss on the forehead?"

"Are you impressed?"

"Not in the slightest."

Angela sighed. "Bren, you can play your whole _I have seven PhDs and am ice cold and will not give an inch, _but you forget that I am your best friend and can tell when you're hiding something."

"I only have three doctorates, Angela, not seven."

"It's called hyperbole, Bren, ever heard of it?"

"Yes, I have. It's an exaggerated statement not meant to be taken literally." Angela was quiet after Brennan's impromptu vocabulary lesson, regarding her friend with that direct, slightly annoyed stare that Booth always gave her when she was being difficult. Brennan didn't like it when Booth looked at her that way and was finding it equally unpleasant coming from her best friend. "What?" she finally said.

Angela only shook her head and picked up her sketchpad, moving off the platform. "You're hiding something and I _will _find out what it is."

At seven o'clock, Booth waltzed into Brennan's office whistling some show tune that Brennan didn't recognize. She was at her desk, finishing up some paperwork, and barely glanced up at Booth's entrance. "I'll be right with you, Booth," she said distractedly.

"Wow, Bones, I'm happy to see you too. How about a little endearments, huh? You know, _How was your day, dear? Oh, fine, how was yours, honey?_"

Brennan glanced at Booth, her brow furrowed. "Why are you talking to yourself?"

"I'm not…I wasn't…" He sighed. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and stood, grabbing her coat off its hook. She began to move past Booth towards the door, but he slipped an arm around her waist, effectively halting her movement. "Hey, Bones, not so fast," he said, gently tugging her back towards him.

"Booth, stop manhandling me."

"I'm not manhandling you," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her snug against his body.

"Then what are you doing?" she asked, smiling a cute little half smile that told him she knew exactly what he was doing.

He smiled this sexy, crooked smile and said, "I'm _trying _to kiss you." His voice was low and rough and made her shiver.

"Oh," she said, the slightest waver in her voice. "Okay."

He began to lean toward her, but paused when he felt her tense in his arms. "Booth, wait…" she breathed, bowing her head toward his chest.

"You okay?" he asked, running his hands in reassuring circles across her back.

"So we're really doing this?" she asked.

He smiled. "We're really doing this."

She nodded. "Okay."

He leaned forward again and this time she tilted her mouth up to meet his. He kissed her softly and slowly and she put her hands inside his jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. He slid his hands down her back to the edge of her shirt and slipped them under the fabric, pressing his fingers to her bare back. She made the most adorable whimpering sound in the back of her throat as he flattened his palm against her lower back and simultaneously shifted his lips to her neck. She could feel the slight scratch of his stubble along her jaw, as he trailed kisses up her neck to the spot right behind her ear. She sighed softly, instinctively pulling him closer as she felt the heat of his breath and wetness of his kisses against her skin. "Booth…" she said and the word came out in a half-moan.

"Yeah?" he said, his lips right at her ear.

"We can't do this…not here…"

Even though most of his mind was occupied solely on the feel of Bones' skin and the noises she made when he kissed her neck, he quickly realized that she was right. He was getting to a point where, if he didn't stop, they'd probably end up consummating their relationship on her couch.

With a regretful sigh, he pulled away slightly and looked at her face. She was wonderfully disheveled, cheeks flushed, hair in slight disarray. He dropped one last kiss to her lips and began to move away, but was surprised when she stopped him, gripping his lapels to keep him in place. He chuckled softly as she leaned into him again, resting her forehead in the center of his chest. "You okay there, Bones?" he asked.

"I think I finally understand the phrase 'weak in the knees'," she admitted, glancing up at him with an almost sheepish smile.

He grinned, unable to suppress a smug sense of achievement at her admission. He, lowly, government worker Seeley Booth, had made world-renowned, forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan, weak in the knees. He felt more proud of _this _accomplishment than any other deed that had earned him a plaque or a medal. "Feeling a little wobbly there, huh, Bones?"

She shook her head at him. "Stop grinning like that."

He grinned more. "Like what?"

"Like—like _that!_" she cried, pointing accusingly at his face.

"I guess I'm just more skilled than I thought. I should be more careful next time. Maybe I should just walk around with some sort of warning taped to my chest. Or I could have girls sign a waver beforehand, you know, so I'm not liable if they faint or something." By the end of his speech, Brennan's look of annoyance had degraded into a full-on scowl. She moved away from him, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You're so damn cocky," she accused, sounding genuinely angry. "Why do you have to be like that? You make me crazy sometimes."

As soon as he realized that he had upset her, the guilt, strong and swift, set in. "Hey, Bones. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you." She didn't respond, only continued glaring at him. He took a step closer, flashed one of his patented Seeley Booth charm smiles. "Look, you make me crazy too."

Now she looked confused. "I do?"

He nodded, smiling. "Yeah, but in a different way."

She furrowed her brow. "A different way?"

He nodded again. "A good way."

She smiled then and let him kiss her. He slipped his arm around her shoulder as they headed out the door and she leaned into him. "So," she murmured into his ear. "A good way?"

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her temple. "The best way."

So, what does everybody think? This was originally just going to be a one-shot, but now I'm thinking of continuing it. Thoughts? Either way…review!!!


	2. I Want You in My Bed

**Here's some more B/B cuteness for ya'll. :)**

Within minutes of stepping into the diner, they were arguing about pie.

"I don't understand why you're so eager to get me to eat pie," Brennan said as they took their customary table by the window.

"I guess I just don't understand, Bones," Booth said. "It's pie."

Brennan frowned. "I don't understand your logic."

"It's just…who doesn't like pie?" he asked reasonably.

"I don't like my—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't like your fruit cooked. I know, Bones. All I'm saying is very few people don't like pie. It's practically un-American."

"I'm not sure where you're getting your statistics, but food preferences are actually known to vary greatly between individuals. As early as 1931, links were made between food preference and inheritable genes. Utilizing the organic compound phenylthiourea it was established that—"

"Whoa, Bones, enough with the science lecture. Lots of people don't like pie. Point taken."

"That wasn't actually my point, Booth—"

"Let's order, huh? Ordering sounds good," Booth declared, brandishing his menu, while Brennan continued frowning at him as if he was a scientific anomaly she couldn't figure out.

When Booth peered over the top of his menu and caught the look, he smiled. He had always found her consternation adorable. "What's up, Bones?"

"Sometimes, I don't understand you," she told him honestly.

"Yeah, well, back at ya, Bones."

"We're so different, Booth," she continued. "It doesn't make sense that we would even like each other, let alone be romantically compatible."

Booth fought the urge to sigh. They hadn't even ordered and the doubt was already in overdrive. "Hey, Bones, cool it with the relationship angst, would ya? Take a chill pill."

She frowned. "I don't know what that means."

He smiled. "It means, let's take it one step at a time. Don't slam on the breaks before we've even put the car in drive."

"I've noticed you tend to favor metaphors involving automobiles. It's very interesting."

"No, it's not. It just means I like cars."

"I'm sure Sweets would disagree with you."

"I thought you hated psychology."

"I do. I'm just saying: Sweets tends to put everything into a psychological context, so he would likely draw some sort of conclusion about your character based on your tendency towards car metaphors."

"That," Booth said definitively, "is why Sweets is annoying."

Brennan shrugged. "Sweets says that your obsession with getting me to eat pie is some sort of sexual seduction."

Booth smiled. "The kid might not be far off there." He waited a beat and then glanced up at her from his menu. She was looking at him kind of funny, this half grin on her face, her eyes alight with something more than desire.

"You want to seduce me?" she asked, her voice much softer now. Kind of raspy, _way_ sexy.

Booth grinned and put his menu down, leaning across the table towards her. "I do." He paused and she saw the way his gaze dipped to her lips. "Is that okay?"

She nodded and leaned closer until their noses were practically touching. "That is definitely okay," she said. "That is very, very okay."

"Thank God," he said matter-of-factly. Even though the conversation was over, he didn't pull away and change the subject. She got this dreamy look on her face and his grin faded into a smile filled with a love that she couldn't quite understand yet.

After a few minutes, he became so taken with the way her lips were quirked up on one side that he knew he either had to kiss her or go outside to cool down. "How do you feel about PDA?" he asked softly.

"PDA?" she echoed, her brow furrowing in a way that made him want to kiss her that much more.

"Public displays of affection," he explained.

"Are you asking permission to kiss me?" she said, finally catching on.

He leaned closer. "Yes." He lifted his gaze from her mouth and met her eyes. "May I?"

She nodded, feeling absurdly happy at his show of chivalry. "You may."

And so he did. It was quick, (it wasn't like he was going to suck her face off in the middle of a diner), but undeniably sweet. Kissing Bones was like jumping into a pool in August and hearing his favorite song on the radio and driving with the windows down. It was every good moment in his life, everything he loved all wrapped up in a few seconds of smelling her smell and tasting her taste. It was practically a religious experience.

She pulled away first and he realized that she was a little uncomfortable. Not too much. But a little. She dropped her eyes to her menu, grinning in this shy way that made his heart ache. "I think I'll have the Caesar salad," she told him quietly.

"Good choice," he said knowingly.

"What are you going to have?"

"A burger."

She smiled. "Good choice."

—BB—

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. He teased her about eating French fries with mustard instead of ketchup. She got mad at him when he stole all the ice cubes out of her diet Coke. They left the diner arguing about gut versus forensics and bickered the entire drive back to her place. It wasn't until they got to her apartment that they ran into some trouble.

She walked in first and asked if he wanted a beer. He said he would and she made her way over to the fridge, while he wandered into her living room. A few seconds later, she walked over and handed him his beer. He said, "Thank you," and she said, "Do you want to have sex?"

That was when he dropped his bottle, sending beer flying across her mahogany coffee table that was apparently priceless and from some African country he couldn't pronounce. Ten minutes later, after much deliberation over what cleaning product should be used on the table, they both sat down on the couch. Booth could feel her looking at him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. After a few minutes of awful, awkward silence, (something he had never had to endure with Bones), she said, "Booth, did you hear my question?"

"Oh yeah, Bones, I heard it alright."

She frowned and repositioned herself on the couch so that she was facing him. "Are you mad?"

"What? No!"

She was quiet for a minute. "Then why won't you look at me?"

He sighed. "Because, Bones, this isn't how I pictured it."

"Pictured what?"

"This," he said, a wave of his hand encompassing the air around them in a vague, sweeping gesture.

"You mean intercourse?"

He sighed again and turned to face her. "Yes, Bones, _making love._ This isn't how I pictured it happening with us."

"How did you picture it?"

"I don't know. I guess I just thought it would be more…romantic. More intimate. Without any analysis or conversation or misgivings."

He thought she would say something argumentative or dense. Call it intercourse or copulation or coitus until every sexy or romantic thought he ever had drained right out of him. Instead, she simply said, "I'm nervous," and the way she said it was so truthful, so unguarded that any frustration he had been feeling just melted away.

He smiled and slipped his arm around her waist, scooting her across the couch until she was pressed into his side. "I know how you feel," he told her and he wasn't just saying it to make her feel better.

"You do?" she asked doubtfully.

He nodded. "I do."

"What if it's bad?" she said after a moment.

"It won't be."

"But you can't possibly—"

"Bones, hey. It won't be. I promise."

After a moment, she nodded, accepting his statement not because of any definitive proof, but simply because she trusted him. "So, do you?" she asked after a moment.

"Do I what?"

"Want to have sex," she said.

He was quiet for a moment, his hand tracing lazy circle across her back. Finally, he said, "I do, but not tonight."

She frowned and pouted, getting a look on her face that was extremely similar to the one Parker made when he was sent to bed without dessert. She shifted closer to him, slipping her hand into the open collar of his shirt. "Why not tonight?" she asked, her voice all low and husky.

He chocked out a laugh, but it sounded forced. Understandable, considering the fact that Bones' hand was resting just inches from his right nipple. "Because, Bones, I'm a gentleman. We haven't even gone on a real date. We can't sleep together when I haven't even gotten a chance to buy you flowers and take you out to a fancy restaurant."

"Booth, you don't need to buy me dinner to have sex with me."

"Bones, you're missing the point," he said gently, turning his body to face her more directly. "I want to…I want to _woo _you."

"But that's not necessary," she protested. "You don't need to win me over. You already have me."

He knew she was simply presenting the facts, trying to win the argument with logic, but her words made him unquestionably happy. _Bones_ was _his_. He was the one who got to kiss her and hold her and tell her she looked beautiful. Finally, it was his turn. "I know I don't need to," he said softly, "but I want to. Okay?"

She smiled and bowed her head, getting that shy smile again. "Okay."

He grinned and kissed her on the forehead, before standing up from the couch. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Home," he said like it was obvious.

She stood up. Cocked her head to the side. "Why?"

Now he was confused. "I thought we decided we weren't going to…you know."

"You said we weren't having sex tonight, but you didn't say anything about sleeping over."

He furrowed his brow. For once, he was the one who couldn't seem to catch on. "You want me to sleep on the couch?" he asked doubtfully.

"No, Booth," she said like he was the most dense person ever. "I want you to sleep with me. Literally. I want you in my bed."

Booth swallowed, hard, and begged his mind not to go _there_. But it was useless.He was officially turned on. What was he supposed to do? _I want you in my bed. _It wasn't exactly an innocent invitation to snuggle. "Uh, Bones, I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

_Because I have no self-control. _"It's just, you know…I just don't think…" Dammit. Why could he not come up with a good lie? "I just don't think it would be…wise." _Wow. Smooth, Seeley._

For a second, she looked baffled and then she got this knowing look on her face and he knew she was on to him. "You don't think it would be _wise_, huh?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I don't."

"So you don't think you can resist me, is that it?"

"No, that's most definitely _not _it," he said and then immediately kicked himself. _This is so _not _the time to be stubborn. _

"Oh, okay," she said. "Then there shouldn't be a problem, should there?"

_Crap._ "Um, no, I guess you're right." _Crap. Crap. Crap._

"Good, I'll go get changed." And then she turned on her heel and walked down the hall into her bedroom and he had no choice but to follow.

—BB—

Booth was sitting on the edge of her bed in his boxers and a t-shirt when she walked out of the bathroom. As he looked at her, it became abundantly clear how hard it would be to maintain his no-sex policy. She was wearing nothing but a slightly baggy t-shirt and sky-blue, cotton briefs. He swallowed as his eyes wandered lower, all the way down her bare, mile-long, completely flawless legs. "God, Bones," he said hoarsely.

"Are you okay, Booth?" she asked, grinning this wide, cocky grin that, for some reason, rubbed him the wrong way.

"No, Bones, I'm not." For some reason, he felt annoyed with her. Why couldn't she just let him go home? Buy her flowers, and a nice, fancy dinner. Why did she have to control every goddamn situation? He stood up. "I'm going home."

"But, Booth, you said it wouldn't be a problem—"

"Well, I lied," he said bluntly. He began to move towards the door, but then turned around abruptly. "God, don't you know anything?"

He immediately regretted his words when she got a hurt look on her face and dropped her gaze to the floor. "Apparently not," she said quietly.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "How could you think it _wouldn't _be a problem?" he asked, making a conscious effort to take the edge out of his voice. "How could you think that I would be able to lie with you in my arms all night and _not_ go crazy with wanting you? I _want _you, Bones. I want you so badly."

"Then what's stopping you?" she said.

"I want to be different, okay, Bones? I don't want to be the guy who sleeps with you right away. Like that's the only thing I'm after. I want you to know that I want _you _for _you_. That's all."

"Booth, I…"

He waited for a moment, but when she didn't continue, he turned towards the door. "Booth, wait."

He stopped. He sighed. "What, Bones?" He didn't even turn to look at her.

"I just…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, okay?" she finally said. Her voice shook, like it cost her something to say it.

He turned around and for a while they just stood there, staring at each other in silence from opposite ends of the room. And then he strode across the room and grabbed her, yanking her against his body. He heard her quick intake of breath just before he crashed his lips against hers. His frustration was still there in the way he held her a little too tightly, kissed her a little too roughly. His kisses were just as hard and unrelenting as the arms that pushed her back, back until she fell away from him and landed on the bed. He lowered himself on top of her. Pressed a thigh between her legs. Made her moan his name. He kissed her mouth and her jaw and her neck. She arched against him and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her body against his. He felt his desire rise and rise until his mind was empty except for the woman tangled in his arms. But then he remembered. Remembered his promise and the look she got on her face every time someone let her down. He pulled away from her abruptly and left her in a dazed heap in the middle of her bed. "Booth…" she breathed. "What's wrong?"

He moved off the bed and stood up. "I should leave," he said quietly.

"No," she said.

"Temperance…"

She sat up. "No, Booth. I don't _want _you to leave. I _want _you to stay. We can sleep at opposite sides of the bed if you want, but I want you to be here when I wake up."

He smiled at her then. A wide, loving, indulgent smile. "I'll stay," he said softly. "Of course I'll stay."

She nodded and straightened her shirt and waited for him to get under the covers before lying down beside him. She turned off the light and they lay there in the dark for a few minutes, two feet of emptiness between them. Then he heard her voice, soft and hesitant. "Booth? Can I…"

He grinned in the darkness. "Get over here, Bones."

She immediately shifted across the mattress, and he lifted his arm so that she could curl into his side. She rested her hand in the center of his chest, right over his heart and he kissed the top of her head. "Night, Bones."

"Night, Booth."

—BB—

The next morning, Booth drove her to the Jeffersonian and insisted on walking her inside. "Booth, I don't need an escort," she complained as he followed her across the parking lot.

"Bones, I'm just being nice, okay? It's not like I'm trying to steal your independence or anything."

"Fine," she said grudgingly.

He grinned and, deciding to push his luck, slipped an arm around her waist as they walked. She gave him pointed look, but didn't protest the gesture. "Wow, Bones," he said, his voice teasing. "Maybe tomorrow we can hold hands." She scowled in response and moved out of his reach. "Aw, Bones, I was only kidding."

She paused in her steps and turned to face him. "Is this some sort of payback for the sexual frustration you endured last night?"

Booth rolled his eyes. "No, Bones. _This _is called teasing. It's a show of affection."

She frowned and began walking again. "I'm not enjoying it."

"No, come on. It's fun. Try it."

She was quiet for a minute and then said, "You are overprotective and hover too much."

"Jeez, Bones, tell me how you really feel."

She gave him a look. "I just did."

He shook his head. "But that wasn't teasing. That was just insulting. Teasing is light-hearted and humorous. You _lovingly_ make fun of people for their quirks. Not make them feel like dirt."

"Quirks," Brennan repeated thoughtfully. "Okay. Like your colorful socks and rebellious ties?"

"Exactly!" Booth exclaimed. "So, try again."

"Booth," she began. "I find your colorful socks and rebellious ties very endearing." She paused and looked at him. "How was that?"

He sighed. "We'll work on it, Bones."

By then they had made their way into the Jeffersonian. Brennan immediately began to move towards the platform, but Booth grabbed her hand and practically dragged her into her office. "Booth," she said, "you're manhandling me again."

"Calm down, Bones. You can go play with your skeletons in a second." He pulled her into her office and shut the door and then walked back over to her, drawing her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "We're not going to have to go through that again, are we?"

"You want to kiss me again," she stated.

"Seriously, Bones, you don't have to sound so enthusiastic about it."

Brenna frowned and tilted her head to the side. "You're being facetious again," she said finally, as if she was drawing some complicated, anthropological conclusion.

"Yes, Bones, congratulations. You get a gold star."

She grinned triumphantly, completely missing the sarcasm in his voice. "I enjoy gaining insights into human behavior. I find it very stimulating."

"I gotta say, you are turned on by the weirdest stuff."

"Booth, I didn't mean that I was _sexually _stimulated. I meant that I was _intellectually_ stimulated."

"Okay, so you're brain was turned on. It's still weird."

"Actually, mental stimulation of a sexual variety, such as pornography, can lead to physical arousal—"

"Okay, Bones, I'm gonna cut you off there because this conversation is getting a little too weird for my taste."

"Okay, well, I have to get to work anyway," she said, beginning to move away.

"Whoa, Bones, I still haven't gotten my goodbye kiss," Booth pointed out.

She rolled his eyes but let him pull her close again and press a kiss to her lips. After a few seconds, she began to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. "I'm not going to see for at least four hours," he explained. "I need something to get me through."

She only shook her head, fighting the urge to point out that he was being dramatic, and leaned into him again. That, of course, was the moment when Angela decided to barge in. "Hey, Sweetie, I have that face you wanted me to—"

Booth and Brennan both leapt apart, but not before Angela got a nice, juicy visual of their morning make-out session. "Oh my, God," she said as a giddy grin spread across her features. "You know what? I'm just going to leave. Now. For no apparent reason." She turned and hurried away, calling over her shoulder, "As you were!"

As soon as she was out of sight, Brenna turned to Booth and smacked him soundly on the arm. "Ow!" he yelped. "What was that for?"

"See what you did?" she said. "Now everyone's gonna know."

He shrugged. "So?"

"So," she said, drawing out the word for emphasis. "Angela will tell Hodgins who will tell Wendell and soon Cam will catch wind of it and then the FBI will find out and then they won't let us work together."

She looked so stricken about this, that he couldn't resist pulling her back into his arms. "No one will separate us, okay? I won't let them."

She drew in a shaky breath. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," he said easily. "It'll be fine. I promise."

She let out a long breath and took a step back. "Okay, well, I should go talk to Angela."

"Okay," he said, moving towards the door. "I'll see you at lunch."

Once he was gone, Brennan walked over to Angela's office. As soon as she walked in, the artist jumped up from her desk and threw her arms around her friend. "Bren!" she cried. "I'm so happy for you!"

"I can see that," Brenna said, chuckling softly as she watched her friend giggle and squeal with delight.

When she had calmed down enough, (which took a while), Angela looked at Brennan levelly. "Can I just say, _FINALLY? _I mean, God, we have been waiting on you two for like six years."

"Who's 'we'?" Brennan asked.

"Everybody," Angela said, making a gesture with her hand that seemed to encompass the whole Jeffersonian institution.

"I find it hard to believe that every employee at the Jeffersonian is invested in my romantic life," Brennan said incredulously.

"Okay, well, I might be exaggerating a little. But everyone could see it. Even Zackmade a couple comments over the years how you two seemed highly compatible."

"Really? Zack?"

"Yes, sweetie. _Zack._" She said his name with emphasis, like this alone proved that Booth and Brennan were soul mates.

"That _is_ interesting," Brennan conceded.

"Okay, so let's get to the good stuff," Angela said. "Is he a good kisser? Because he looks like he'd be good, but you never know."

"He is very skilled," Brennan said, smiling despite herself.

Angela nodded, wiggling her eyebrows. "I knew it. I totally knew it. Seeley Booth, stud in residence."

Brennan frowned. "I don't know what that means."

"It means that your guy is one hot hunk of a man and you should thank your lucky stars that you have him in your life."

"I have to admit, Ange, if I was a superstitious person like Booth, I'd probably be doing just that."

**Ah! They are just **_**too**_** cute. Just so you guys can be forewarned, this story will have very little angst. This story is where all my fluffy, smutty B/B thoughts will go. So if there is anyone out there who is craving some angst-ridden moments, you might want to start looking elsewhere. But if you like a good kiss scenes, if you enjoy Booth at his studliest and Brennan at her most endearing, look no further. This story is for you. **

**In the meantime, please review!!!! **


	3. I Love You

**This chapter is a lot shorter than the last two, but I wanted to post something before the weekend, because I don't think I'll be able to post again in a while. You'll also notice that I officially changed the rating to M, so that should make some of you happy! **_**Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.**_

Brennan followed Booth into his apartment and made her way over to his couch. He was quick to join her, beer in hand, a smile on his face. She turned towards him. "Booth, can we have sex tonight?"

"Bones," Booth sighed.

"What? I was just wondering," she said, all innocence.

"No, Bones, we can't."

"Booth," she whined.

"Bo-ones," he echoed.

"I don't understand why you think withholding sex will prove…" She trailed off. "What are you trying to prove again?"

"That I am here to stay," he said steadily. They had had this exact conversation for the past eight evenings. It was getting a little redundant, but he wasn't planning on giving in anytime soon. She had to know how much she meant to him. She _had _to.

"Booth, I know you're here to stay, okay? Are you satisfied? I have no doubts." She was quiet for about a second. "Can we have sex now?"

"Nope," he said, grinning at her annoyance.

"Booth!" she cried. "You are being completely and totally…infuriating! I'm extremely sexually frustrated."

"Yeah, I kinda got that."

"Well aren't you?" she asked.

"I think you know the answer to that one, Bones."

"Are you referring to the erection you have been experiencing every morning? It's actually quite normal for males to experience a certain amount of tumescence in the morning—"

"Why do we always end up talking about _intercourse_ or _tumescence _or _sexual stimulation?_"

"Maybe because it is in the forefront of our thoughts because we haven't consummated our relationship yet."

Booth chuckled. "I don't think _tumescence _is ever in the forefront of my thoughts."

"Oh, well," she said. "I guess it's just me then."

"You think about tumescence a lot, Bones?"

"Well, maybe not tumescence, but…other things."

He grinned and leaned toward her. "Other things?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "Sexually…related…things."

"I'll bet you do," he said softly. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before drawing back and becoming serious. He sighed and put his beer down on the coffee table before turning to face her. "Look, Bones. I don't want to drive you crazy or anything, I just…I want you to know."

She frowned. "Know what?"

He hesitated, but only for an instant. "How much I love you."

Brennan was quiet for a minute, a look of consternation on her face. "Not in an 'atta girl' kind of way?" she asked softly.

"No," he said, smiling. "In a completely sincere, my heart is yours, _Say Anything_ kind of way."

"I don't know what that means," she mumbled, glancing away from his face.

"It means that I'm in love with you, Bones. Real, true, love." He paused, smiled. "The kind that will last thirty or forty or fifty years."

She smiled a beautiful, hesitant smile, but then it slowly faded and her gaze fell away from his face. "I still don't know…I don't know how to…open my heart." She looked up at him. Her eyes were guarded, cautious, as if she was afraid he would walk out the door if she didn't say the right thing. "I think…I think I…" She fell silent. "How do you know? How can you be so sure?"

He shrugged. "You just feel it, Bones," he told her.

"But where? How?" she asked desperately, as if this was some concept she could grasp, some lesson she could learn if he would only teach her.

He was quiet for a minute. He shifted closer to her on the couch. "You know that feeling you get when my fingers graze your skin?" As he spoke, he lifted her hand and trailed his fingers up her arm to the crook of her elbow. "And the feeling you get when my lips touch your lips?" He leaned forward and gave her a feather-light kiss. "And the tingle you get when I kiss the spot right behind your ear?" He pressed his mouth to her neck and kissed his way up to the edge of her hairline, feeling a shiver run through her body. "And the tremble of pleasure that runs through you when my hand touches your bare back?" She leaned into him as he slipped his hand underneath her shirt and ran his fingers across her stomach, over her waist, to the small of her back. "And the security of my arms around you? The desire when my body is pressed against yours?" She was catching on to his game now and let him pull her onto his lap without complaint. She straddled his thighs, her breath coming faster now as he ran his hands up her sides, underneath her shirt. "You know that feeling?" he whispered hoarsely as she bent forward, kissing him desperately, searchingly.

"I know the feeling," she breathed, the words catching in her throat as his hand came up to cup her breast through her shirt.

"You do?" he murmured, his fingers shifting to the buttons on her blouse.

"Yes, Booth, I do." She slipped her hands inside his shirt. Ran her fingers over his chest. Felt the muscles ripple beneath her touch.

"That's love, Bones," he told her.

She kissed him. "No," she said, her breath hot against his lips. "It's desire."

Half-naked and straddling his lap and still she was arguing with him. "No, Bones," he said firmly. "This is more than desire. This is love."

She was momentarily still in his arms. She lifted her hands and rested them against his cheeks. "It is?" she asked.

He nodded. "It is."

She stared at him, her blue eyes wide. "I love you?" She said it like a question. Tilted her head to the side. "I love you." Her voice was disbelieving and lovely. She grinned in wonder. "I love you."

Booth smiled and pulled her mouth back down to his. "Atta girl, Bones."

She parted her lips to his kisses and pressed against him. He ran his hands across her back and over her thighs until her breath was coming hard and fast. Unable to resist, he undid the snap on her bra and ran his fingers over her beautiful, flawless breasts. She let out a little moan, bowing her head forward, as he took them in his hands. He pressed a kiss to her neck and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her forward so that her breasts were flattened against his chest. She moaned again at the friction of his dress shirt against her nipples. He kissed her. Slowly, lovingly. And then he pulled back and began buttoning her blouse back up. For a minute, she just sat there, still hazy with desire and not quite aware of what he was doing. But then her eyes got wide and she pushed his hands away. "You are _not _stopping."

"Bones," he sighed.

She stood up and took a couple of steps away from him. He could see her hardened nipples pressed against the taught fabric of her shirt and felt a little stab of desire settle in his groin. He looked away from her and she scoffed at him. "Look at yourself, Booth," she said, pointing to the prominent bulge in his pants.

"Bones," he said wearily, "just let it go."

"No, Booth. I want to know why you're so hell bent on _not _having sex with me. What possible reason could there be anymore?" He didn't answer her. He stood up, adjusting his pants uncomfortably, and moved towards his bedroom. "Booth," she said, striding after him. "Answer my question."

He walked into his bedroom and then whirled on her. "I'm scared, okay?"

She fell silent at that. Took a step away from him. "You're…scared?"

"Yes, Bones. Are you happy now?" He sighed and turned away from her.

"What are you scared of?" she asked softly.

He let out a long breath and bowed his head, before turning and meeting her gaze. "Of making this real. Of passing that point of no return. However scared you are of losing me, I'm just as scared of losing you."

"But, Booth…You won't lose me."

"Really?" he asked quietly. "I know how _I _am going to feel I fifty years. Do you?"

She was quiet. She dropped her gaze and walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. "Until tonight, I don't think I really knew what love was. Or at least I forgot what it could be like." She lifted a teary gaze to his face. "After my parents left, I wouldn't let myself remember. I _couldn't_. It was too hard. But now…I feel it again. I _feel _it, Booth. Because of you."

She was quiet for a minute. She stood up and walked over to him. Pressed her hands to his chest and slid them up around his neck. "I can't tell you how I'll feel in fifty years, Booth. No one can. Not even you. But I know that right _now,_ I love you. I know that right _now, _you love me. That's enough for me. Is it enough for you?"

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Yeah, Bones, that's enough for me." He kissed her forehead and pulled her close. "That's more than enough."

**So yeah, pretty short, but action-packed. The first I-love-you's, a nice, hot make-out scene, the promise of smut to come… And you know what will make that smut come faster? REVIEWS! **


	4. I Could Drink a Case of You

**First of all, thank you to all of you who have reviewed. I love reading what you guys have to say so much! As a way of saying thanks, here is the chapter that a lot of you have been waiting for…**

Booth woke up in the middle of the night and quickly realized that Brennan was no longer lying next to him. He rolled out of bed and walked out into the living room. She was sitting on the couch, listening to a Joni Mitchell CD Rebecca had left behind about ten years ago. Her knees were pulled up to her chest. She mouthed the words with a nostalgic sort of familiarity, a sad, ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Bones?" he called out softly. She turned her head at the sound of voice and smiled. "You okay?" he asked, walking around the couch and sitting down next to her.

"Yeah," she said. Her voice was quiet, almost dreamy. "My mother used to listen to this record all the time. One time I woke up in the middle of the night and found my parents dancing to this song." She turned to look at him. "They were so happy."

Booth smiled and wrapped his arm around her. He pulled her close and kissed the side of her head. "They were in love, Bones."

She nodded thoughtfully and turned to kiss him. He lifted his hand to the back of her head, cradling her lips against his and then he said, "Dance with me," murmuring the words into her lips like a secret.

She smiled, but shook her head. "I can't dance, Booth."

"Sure you can," he said, standing up and offering her his hand. She eyed it cautiously. "C'mon, Bones. I won't bite."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that." After a moment of deliberation, she took his hand and let him pull her up off the couch and against his body. He slipped an arm around her waist and held her hand, lifting it to rest against his chest. She tentatively rested her fingers against his shoulder and dropped her eyes to the ground as soon as they started moving. "Bones, relax," he said softly. He tugged her closer, eliminating the space between their bodies so that her feet were hidden from view.

"Booth!" she protested. "I might step on your feet."

"No you won't, Bones. This isn't ballroom dancing. Just trust me."

She remained tense for a while, barely lifting her feet as they moved around the room. Then, gradually, she relaxed against him. Rested her head on his shoulder. Leaned on him as he swayed her gently to the music. _I remember that time you told me, you said, love is touching souls… _He let go of her hand and wrapped both arms around her. Held her against him. _Well surely you touched mine… _She looped her arms around his neck. Shivered when his hands found their way under her shirt. '_Cause part of you pours out of me in these lines from time to time… _"I love you," he told her. She felt the words rumble in his chest. _You're in my blood like holy wine…_ She lifted her head and found him watching her, his eyes dark and full. _You taste so bitter and so sweet…_ His mouth was warm and familiar against hers. She parted her lips and tasted him. Peppermint toothpaste and salt and sweet. _I could drink a case of you… _His lips at her neck, kissing her like he _would_ drink her whole. _And still I'd be on my feet…_ She sighed and the sound was loud in his ear. _I would still be on my feet._

The song faded and she pulled away, met his gaze. "The way you're looking at me…" She trailed off and searched his face. Her eyes were a million miles away. "My father used to look at my mother like that."

Booth smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. She let out a long breath and closed her eyes, savoring the closeness of the moment. She slid her hands off his shoulders and rested them against his chest. After a while, he shifted his lips to her cheek and then her lips. When he pulled away, his face was earnest. He lifted his fingers to her chin. "This is how a man looks at a woman when he loves her, when he cares about her, when he would do _anything _for her. Okay, Bones?" He held her eye when he said it. Made sure she understood.

"Okay," she said softly.

She tilted her face up and he bowed his head down and suddenly, they were breathing each other's air, their lips barely brushing. "Booth?" she whispered after a while, a questioning in her voice.

He grinned and kissed the corner of her mouth. She turned her head to catch his lips, but he had already pulled away again. "Booth," she said again, almost whining this time. "What are you doing?"

He kissed her nose. "I'm savoring."

"Savoring what?"

He kissed the line of her jaw and the apple of her cheek. "You, Bones."

"Me?" she said. Her voice was breathy and distracted but also a little disbelieving.

"Yes, you," he said again. She looked at him then. Well, studied him more like it. Lips parted, brow furrowed. He smiled at her and lifted his fingers to her forehead, gently evening out the lines of worry. Then he leaned down and kissed her deep and full on the mouth.

"Finally," she murmured into his lips and he smiled.

"Getting a little impatient there, Bones?"

She pulled away from him and gave him this sultry little grin that made him twinge in his boxer shorts. "You have no idea," she said breathily, then swiveled away, making her way back to the bedroom.

For a minute, he just stood there in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded and undeniably turned on. Then he rushed after her, catching up to her in the doorway of his bedroom. He grabbed her waist and twisted her around. Pushed her against the doorjamb maybe a little too roughly. "My Bones, the temptress," he said.

She gave him that grin again and didn't begrudge him the possessive pronoun. He pressed his thigh between her legs. Ran his hands up her sides. Pinned her arms above her head. "Does this mean you're rescinding your no-sex policy?" she asked. Only Bones would use a word like "rescinding" during foreplay.

"That's exactly what this means," he said.

She sighed happily and pressed closer to him. Hiked her leg up his thigh and whispered, "I'm very pleased with your decision."

He loosened his grip on her and she kind of sagged forward against him. Draped her arms around his neck. He kissed her slowly. A deep kiss that seemed to go on and on and on until he couldn't breathe and she could barely stand and the thin layer of clothing between them seemed maddeningly thick. She leaned back in his embrace and trailed her fingers down over his chest to the edge of his shirt. She lifted it up and over his head and returned her hands to his chest, tracing the muscles of his stomach and chest. "Your abdominal and pectoral muscles are very defined," she remarked.

He smiled. "I think you're supposed to say, _Wow, I can see you work out_."

"But that is essentially what I just said. Based on the definition of your muscles I was definitively able to infer that—"

Booth cut her off with a quick kiss to her lips. "Bones," he whispered huskily into her ear. "Please don't use the word _infer _while I'm trying to make love to you. It kinda kills the mood."

She smiled at him and was quiet for a minute. Then she leaned into him. Shifted her hips against his. Made him groan, his grip tightening around her waist. "I disagree, Booth," she told him. "You see, I can _infer _from the rapid rate of your heartbeat that you are excited about something. Based on your prominent erection, I can _infer _that that something is probably the sexual intercourse you are about to partake in. With me." She paused. "Your Bones."

He smiled and dipped his head to her neck. "My Bones," he murmured.

She sighed and he pulled her out of the doorway. He walked her backwards towards the bed and she slipped out of his arms, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. For a moment, he stood over her, a half-smile on his lips and for a moment, she just looked at him, her eyes dark and half-lidded with desire. Then she reached up and placed her hand on his chest and he leaned down to kiss her.

As her fingers trailed lazy circles across his stomach, he reached down to the edge of her shirt and tugged it up and over her head. He tossed it to the floor and pulled back slightly to drink her in, his eyes full and dark as the earth. She colored slightly under his intent gaze, but didn't look away as he took in the endless, uncovered curves of her skin. The graceful line of her collarbone, the luscious fullness of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, glowing slightly in the hazy light before dawn. "You're so beautiful," he said hoarsely and she knew he wasn't just talking about her body.

"Thank you, Booth," she said quietly and reached a hand toward him, suddenly needing him close, needing the solid reassurance of his arms.

He bent forward and found her lips again, pushing her back against the sheets. She stretched her slender body out beneath him and he hovered over her, suspending his weight in his arms. She gazed up at him, her hands in his hair, then trailing down over his shoulders. "Are you _savoring _again?" she asked, her lips curving into a smile.

He smiled too, but his eyes were serious. "I want to remember this," he said honestly.

"I won't let you forget," she told him. "I'll remind you all the time."

He grinned now, lowering himself slightly, feeling the heat of her body beneath him. "All the time?"

"Every day," she promised, the words turning into a gasp as he brushed his bare chest against her nipples.

"I like the sound of that," he said.

"I'll bet you do," she said, this sassy little edge to her voice that made the urgency of his desire come roaring back.

He kissed her hard, and rolled onto his side, pulling her tight against his chest. She moaned softly and arched against him. Draped her leg over his hip, her fingers tangled in his hair. He reached up and palmed her breast, feeling the weight of it in his hand, before bowing his head and taking the hardened nipple in his mouth. She sighed his name and he moved lower, pressing his lips to the valley between her breasts, her stomach. The curve of her hip and thigh. She tensed with anticipation as he nibbled at the soft skin of her inner thigh, the smell of her, wet and ready, driving him half-mad. He reached up and slipped two fingers inside her and she practically came off the bed. He lifted a hand to her waist to steady her and then pressed his mouth to her. Delved deep with his tongue. Suckled her clit until she was gasping and shaking against him, his name a sigh on her lips. "Booth." His name was a plea.

He lifted his head to look at her. "Did you want something, Bones?"

"You," she said simply and he honestly almost came right then and there.

He moved back up the length of her body, dropping kisses over her stomach and breasts on his way up. He kissed her neck and jaw and lips and let out a groan when he felt her grip him through his boxers, trailing her fingers along his length. "Bones, this isn't going to last very long if you keep doing that."

She smiled at that, but stopped touching him. He quickly shimmied out of his boxers and pulled her back into his arms and for a while, they just lay there. She pressed lazy kisses to his chest and neck and he ran his hands up and down her back, his lips in her hair. After a while, she pulled back to look at him. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright. He kissed her pink lips. "My Bones," he said for no apparent reason, but she smiled anyway.

He pushed her back against the mattress and rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath his body. He hovered over her for a second, his arms straining from the effort, and everything seemed to go still. "Will this change us?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he let himself fall into her, filling her. He was everywhere around her, inside and out. He paused, deep inside her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, her eyes, her lips. She let out a long breath, her hands drawing him closer, drawing him deeper. He pulled out and thrust into her again, setting a slow, almost torturous pace. She moaned softly, her breath turning ragged as he filled her again and again. She kissed him hungrily, arching into him, and he could feel himself begin to lose control.

He bowed his head and kissed her breasts and throat. Stroked her clit until he felt her tighten around him. For an instant, she went still, then a deep shudder ran through her and she let go, crying out his name. With one last thrust, he let himself come too, hard and fast inside her.

—BB—

"Sweets," Sweets mumbled into the phone, still half-asleep.

"Sweets, it's Booth."

"Agent Booth?"

"Yeah. Sweets, listen. I need a favor."

"At five o'clock in the morning?" he grumbled.

"Yes," Booth said, knowing Sweets was annoyed and not caring at all.

Sweets sighed. "What is it?"

"It's about Bones—"

"Booth?"

Booth's head snapped up at Brennan's voice, calling from the bedroom. "I have to go Sweets. I'll talk to you later."

"Booth, was that Dr. Bre—"

Booth snapped his phone shut, effectively cutting off the psychologist's question and hurried back into the bedroom. Brennan was sitting up in the middle of the bed, the sheet clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide and teary and almost…scared. "Morning, babe," he said. He walked over and kissed her forehead, smoothing his hand over her hair. "You okay?"

She dropped her gaze to the bed. "When I didn't see you…I thought you had…"

"Left?" he supplied, his voice gentle. She lifted her eyes to his face and he knew he had guessed right. "Not a chance, Bones." He slipped back under the covers and gathered her to his chest. Her body was warm and soft against him. He ran his hand along her side and felt her stretch her languid body against his.

"I don't feel different," she said suddenly, her head tucked under his chin.

"What do you mean?" Booth asked, running his fingers up the back of her thigh.

She closed her eyes at the sensation. Draped her leg over his hip. "You said this would change us," she said, her voice breathy and rough.

"For the better, Bones," he said, a promise in his voice that she didn't understand. "Only for the better." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her hips against him. He could feel her, hot and wet and ready, but he paused. "You love me?" he asked.

She lifted her eyes to his face, caught off guard by the question. As she looked at him, her face gentled. All the hard edges she usually hid behind disappeared, replaced by a bare openness that made his breath catch. "Yes, Booth," she said softly. He smiled, but still seemed to be waiting for something so she whispered, "I love you."

He filled her then and reveled in the way she tilted her head back and gasped his name, her fingers digging into his biceps. He cradled her in his arms, his lips at her throat, felt her holding him and tightening around him and knew he loved her more than he could ever explain.

—BB—

Later that morning, Booth charged into Sweets' office unannounced and declared, "You are going to do something for me."

"Well good morning to you too, Agent Booth. Have a seat, won't you?"

"Cut the crap, Sweets. I need this."

Sweets' smiled at the agent's tone. He sat up straighter and nodded. "Okay."

Booth sighed and sat down on the couch. He rubbed his hands over his face before settling his gaze on the psychiatrist. "Promise me that you won't let Bones and I be separated."

"Booth, I don't have the authority—"

Booth held up a hand. "Promise me, Sweets."

Sweets frowned. "Booth, what is going on?"

Booth sighed again and leaned back against the couch cushions. "Someone might come to you soon and ask you if you think Bones and I can remain partners, and I need you to say we can."

"Booth, if something happened—"

"Nothing happened, Sweets." He paused. "Nothing _bad _happened," he amended, smiling in this way that made Sweets feel like he was once again on the outside of some inside joke.

Sweets waited for some sort of further explanation. When it didn't come, he sighed. "I'll do what I can, Booth."

Booth smiled and stood up. "Thanks, buddy, I owe ya."

"Booth." Booth turned. "I'm not promising anything," Sweets said.

Booth grinned. "Yes you are."

—BB—

Brennan was on the platform when Booth came by the Jeffersonian for lunch. She was bent over a table, peering at some bones as usual. Booth paused in the doorway and watched her for a minute. Her face was serious, almost solemn, her lips parted, brow furrowed. He ran his eyes over her body, her hips and long, creamy legs. As he watched, she straightened and stretched backwards, resting her hands on the small of her back as she tilted her head to the side and sighed. He admired the perfect arc of her back, the curve of her ass, her gracefully slender ankles. As she returned her focus to the skeleton before her, he began to move towards the platform, but a hand grabbing his arm interrupted his progress. He turned to see Cam standing beside him, her face serious. She raised her eyebrows slightly, indicating that she wanted to talk to him, so he followed her as she turned and strode into her office.

"Cam, what's going on?" he asked as she closed the door behind them. "I'm supposed to be having lunch with Bones."

"You know that conversation we had a few months back when you told me you were in love with Brennan?"

Booth worked to keep his face passive as he nodded and mumbled, "Yeah."

"You're sleeping with her, aren't you?" She seemed less than thrilled at the prospect.

He choked back his surprise, his eyes widening slightly. "Um, w-what?"

She gave him a look. "You heard me."

He was quiet for a minute, trying to decide whether or not he should say anything. She seemed pretty damn sure already so he decided to come clean. "Okay, fine, Cam. If you must know, we are in fact sleeping together. Not that's it's any of your business."

Cam scoffed and crossed her arms. "None of my business? My top forensic anthropologist and FBI agent sleeping together? It's _bad_ for business."

"I'm not _your _FBI agent."

She scowled, sending him some very strong don't-fuck-with-me vibes, so he backed off. "Just…don't worry about it, Cam. I'm taking care of it." She raised her eyebrows. "I am," he promised.

"Good," she said. "Because I need you two together."

"I know," Booth said with a grin. "We do, you know, make an awesome team."

"So _not _the time to get cocky, Seeley."

Booth sighed. "Fine, fine, I'm leaving." He made his way to the door but then paused, his hand on the doorknob. "How did you know?" he asked curiously.

Cam rolled her eyes like he was hopeless. "Give me some credit, Seeley. That look you were giving her? Not exactly subtle." Booth nodded and smiled. "Oh, and Booth?" He turned. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Cam."

—BB—

"God, I thought I would never get you alone," Booth breathed, his lips at her neck. "Your interns are too needy. I think you should fire all of them."

Brennan smiled, her fingers making quick time with the buttons on his shirt. "_You're_ too needy."

He grinned and nipped at the skin behind her ear, making her gasp. "I missed you, Bones," he murmured.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders as he backed her against the wall of the supply closet. "You saw me four hours ago."

"Too long," he said simply. He bowed his head and took her nipple in his mouth, making her moan and hold him tighter.

"I agree," she breathed, shifting her hips against him.

He smiled and lifted his lips back to her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep in her mouth. She moaned softly, arching against him. "Booth, we only have…" She trailed off, her hips bucking against his hand as he stroked her through panties. "…ten minutes. There's no time for foreplay."

"Damn interns," Booth grumbled, making her laugh.

Her hands went to his belt buckle and a few seconds later she was back against the wall and he was kissing her neck and breasts and it felt so good that she told herself she would fire the interns tomorrow.

**So there was the long-awaited smut. I hope it didn't disappoint. **

**So I'm actually toying with the idea of jumping ahead a few months in the next chapter. The upcoming gravedigger episode has inspired me to try something that I think (hope) you guys will like. It's not angsty just…dramatic and will eventually lead to one of the cutest B/B scenes I may ever write. Anyway, let me know how you feel about the time jump. **

**Comments and criticism are a huge help to me! I love hearing from you guys! **


	5. I Don't Want to Lose You

**This chapter takes place about five months after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

Booth heard the alarm and felt a chill as Brennan pulled away from him to turn it off. But unlike most mornings when she immediately got out of bed and jumped in the shower, today she returned to his embrace, settling back against him. He was surprised, but definitely didn't complain. He simply granted her unvoiced request to be held a little longer and draped his arm across her hips, pulling her back against his body. He heard her soft sigh, felt her tuck her hand under his. He squeezed her fingers and rested their joined hands over her stomach. "You okay, Bones?" he asked quietly.

"The gravedigger trial starts today," she whispered.

He nodded behind her. Kissed her shoulder. Held her tighter. "I know."

"I don't know if I can do this," she admitted.

"You can, Bones," he promised her.

She turned in his arms and smoothed her hands across his chest. Her eyes were very, very far away. "I have nightmares," she told him. "Hodgins is bleeding. You're drowning." She closed her eyes, her hands curling around the fabric of his shirt. "What if she's acquitted, Booth? What if she goes free?"

Her tone was strained, but also weary. He saw a tear slip from the corner of her eyes and trail down her cheek. He leaned forward and caught it in a kiss. "She won't," he breathed, his lips brushing her cheek. "We won't let her."

"I'm tired, Booth," she told him and he could see that she was. Her face was drawn, her beautiful, blue eyes faded.

"I know," he said. "Me too."

"Do you ever think…" She trailed off. Hesitated.

"What?" he prodded.

"Do you ever think it isn't worth it?"

"What isn't worth it?"

"What we do. Solving murders."

He shook his head. "No, Bones, I don't. What we do—catching the bad guy—it makes the world a better place. Every time we put one of these sickos behind bars, a little part of the universe rights itself. _That _is worth it, Bones. It is."

"What we do every day has no direct impact on the universe, Booth," she pointed out. "We're inconsequential as far as the cosmos is concerned."

"I don't believe that, Bones," he said quietly, his hands tracing a lazy path along her hip, the dip of her waist.

"Because you believe in God?" she asked curiously.

"No, because I believe in _good_. I believe that goodness can change the world. Change the universe. And evil can crush it."

"Your logic is skewed, but I see your point." She frowned then and bowed her head. When she looked at him again, her eyes were full of doubt. "But what about us, Booth?" she whispered brokenly. "What about the toll that evil is taking on us?"

"We can take it, Bones. We have each other."

"We have each other," she agreed. She ran her eyes across his face. His brown eyes and jaw, dark with the shadow of morning stubble. His lips that could take her breath and take her grief. "I don't want to lose you," she breathed suddenly, desperately.

"You won't," he promised. His voice was strong, defiant almost.

She let out a long breath, her face pained. He couldn't bear it when she hurt. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. She leaned into him, stretched against him. Her lips parted and the kiss turned hungry, desperate. "I love you," he said as he pulled her tight against him, his fingers finding her bare skin. His hands were everywhere. He could take away her sorrow. He already had. "I love you so much."

—BB—

When Booth entered Brennan's office later that morning to deliver a cup of coffee and check in on her, he found her sound asleep on her couch. She looked adorable, curled up under a blanket, her hand tucked under cheek. He walked over and brushed a strand of her out of her eyes. She stirred slightly under his touch and opened her eyes, focusing on his face sleepily. He crouched beside the couch and smiled. "A little sleepy there, Bones?"

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah. I guess so."

He nodded and scanned her face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern. He reached out and pressed his hand to her forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"I'm fine, Booth," she said, lightly swatting his hand away. "You worry too much."

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I have a right to worry about my Bones." He kissed her lips, her cheek. "Here, I brought you coffee."

"Thanks," she said quietly, smiling. She took the cup from him as she stood up and made her way over to her desk, rifling through some papers. She took a sip and wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Did you do something different?" she asked.

"To the coffee? No. One sugar, no cream. Just like always."

She frowned. "It tastes strange."

"It tastes strange?" he echoed. "Are you _sure _you feel okay?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I feel fine."

He walked around her desk and drew her into his arms. She placed the forgotten coffee on her desk and rested her hands against his chest. "You're _fine?_" he whispered, his eyes darkening in that way they did when her body was pressed against his.

"I'm fine, Booth. I'm good."

"Mmm," he hummed, his hands slipping underneath her shirt. "Me too."

"Booth," she protested lightly as he dipped his head and kissed his way up her neck. "We're in my office."

"We are," he agreed, pulling her hips snug against his.

"We can't do this here," she said.

"I agree whole-heartedly," he murmured, pressing his lips to her mouth.

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"Booth, stop," she said and this time there was an edge to her voice. He loosened his grip on her and she pushed him back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. He took a step away from her. He looked hurt. She looked away.

"Bones, what is going on?"

She shrugged and turned back to her desk. "I just have a lot of work to do."

"Bullshit," he said, his tone accusing. "You're pushing me away."

"No, I'm not," she said, her voice turning hard. "I'm just not in the mood to satisfy your biological urges right now, okay? If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to gather evidence that isn't _completely _circumstantial so Caroline can convict the woman who tried to kill both of us."

"And you think I'm not trying?" he demanded.

"You're mind seemed to be pretty focused elsewhere a second ago."

"Fine, you're right. Excuse me for caring about you, Bones. That's unforgivable isn't it? Caring about you? I mean, god forbid someone actually _love _you. God forbid, someone actually try to make you _happy_."

She swallowed hard, her jaw set. "That's not fair."

"No, Bones, what isn't fair is you throwing _my _love for _you_ in my face. That's what isn't fair."

His face was hard, but there was hurt there too. She dropped her eyes to the ground. "Booth, I'm…" Her voice faded away.

"I thought you might like to see me. I thought I could…help. You just looked so _damn _sad this morning, I thought…" He shook his head. "I don't know what I thought." His voice had lost its edge. There was nothing but sadness left. "I'll give you some space." He turned away and she suddenly hated herself.

"Booth—"

"I'll see you at court, Bones," he said quietly.

—BB—

Angela found Brennan in the women's bathroom. She was leaning on a sink, gripping the edges, regarding her own reflection in the mirror. "Brennan, where have you been? Cam is totally freaking out. We're due in court in like twenty minutes."

Brennan nodded slowly, her eyes still trained on the mirror. "Sorry, I'll be right there." Her voice was distant. Detached.

Angela frowned and moved closer, resting a hand on Brennan's arm. "Hey, are you okay?"

Brennan remained silent for a while and then turned towards her friend. "I'm fine. I'm just…worried about the trial."

"It'll be okay," Angela said, her voice reassuring.

Brennan nodded absently. "Yeah, I know."

They were both silent for a moment as Angela regarded her friend thoughtfully. "You're hiding something," she finally said.

Brennan looked startled for a moment, but quickly recovered. "What?"

"There's something else that you're not telling me."

"There's nothing else," Brennan said quietly.

Angela shook her head, regarding her with a knowing look. "You're lying," she said.

Brennan smiled wryly. "I know."

"Then what is it?"

Brennan shook her head. Her eyes were tired and also kind of sad. "I can't tell you. Not until I…figure some things out."

"But, Bren—"

"We have to go, Angela."

—BB—

"Dad, why are you here?" Brennan asked her father as politely as she could.

"I just thought you could use some support, honey," Max said.

Brennan bristled. "Why is everyone treating me like a child? I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, sweetie," Max said patiently. "But sometimes it's okay to lean on someone."

"I don't need to lean on anyone, Dad," Brennan insisted. "Not you or…or…" She trailed off. Dropped her gaze to the tiled floors of the courthouse. "Not anyone."

Max watched as his daughter's gaze rose from the floor and drifted to Booth who was standing twenty feet away, talking to Cam. Her eyes darkened with something that looked a little like longing, a little like anger. "Is everything alright with you and Booth?"

Brennan snapped her gaze back to her father. "Yes, it's fine."

Max nodded, knowing he would never get her to admit otherwise. "Okay, well, if you need anything. I'm around."

She nodded tersely and began to move away, but stopped suddenly a few steps away. She was still for a few seconds and then swayed slightly as if she was losing her balance. Max reached out to steady her and she grabbed his forearms. Staying upright suddenly seemed like an exhausting task. "Temperance?" he asked worriedly, peering at her pale face, her distant, unfocused gaze. "Honey? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I'm…" Her voice sounded woozy. She closed her eyes and leaned more heavily against him.

"Temperance?" he asked again.

She was quiet for a minute. When she opened her eyes, they seemed clearer, more focused. "I'll be okay," she said faintly. She pulled away from him, took a step back. She met her father's worried gaze. "I'll be fine," she insisted.

—BB—

Booth pushed open the door to the diner and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Brennan sitting at their usual table. He hadn't been sure she would come after their fight. "Hey, Bones," he said, just like always.

"Hi," she said, sitting up a little straighter as he took his seat across from her. "I'm glad you came," she said softly.

"I told you I would."

"That was before this morning."

"It was one fight, Bones. That's all. I'm still the same guy I always was. I'll still come when I say I will. I told you I'd have lunch with you, so here I am. Here we are."

She nodded. Fiddled with her napkin. "Here we are," she said. Her voice was quiet and hesitant and in that moment she looked so nervous and so damn beautiful that he leaned across the table and kissed her. She tensed slightly at first, but then leaned into him. Followed him when he pulled back slightly so that they were both hovering halfway across the table. He kissed her a little more deeply, a little more desperately than he probably should have in the middle of a diner, but she didn't complain, didn't pull back like that first time.

He was the one who finally pulled away, drawing his lips away from hers regretfully. She remained poised over the table, her eyes still closed as if unwilling to return to reality. He smiled and kissed her forehead. "You're lovely," he whispered, knowing that it probably sounded stupid, that it probably wasn't the right thing to say, but not caring at all.

"Thank you," she said as she returned to her seat. To reality.

He took a sip of coffee in an attempt to ground himself and ordered some pie from a young blonde waitress who blushed when he smiled at her. When he turned back to Brennan, he found her gazing out the window, a faraway look in her eyes. "Penny for your thoughts," he said.

"I was just thinking…" She trailed off, as if struggling with something. "I was just thinking that I can't believe the gravedigger case is actually going to trial."

"Aren't you happy?" he asked.

"I am," she said quietly. "It's just…the _rational _thing would've been to throw out the case. All of the evidence is circumstantial."

"You can't always do the rational thing, Bones," he told her.

"I know."

Silence descended over their little table. She was hiding something from him, he knew it. He could feel it between them like a wall. "Do you want to tell me something, Bones?" he asked softly.

She looked at him. Her eyes said _yes, _but her lips said, "No."

He nodded and then said, "I have to go pick up Parker, do you want to come?" She didn't answer right away so he added, "I'd like you to come."

She smiled slightly at that. "Okay, I'll come."

—BB—

"Bones!"

Brennan turned at the sound of her name just as something small collided with her legs. She looked down at the mop of curly blonde hair and smiled. "Hey, Parker," she greeted him warmly.

He looked up at her, arms still wrapped around her legs. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I came with your dad to pick you up," she said.

"Awesome!" he cried then pulled back and grabbed her hand, dragging her over to a crack in the sidewalk where a colony of ants was swarming. "Look what I found!"

Brennan crouched down and peered at the little black creatures. "It seems you've found a colony of monomorium minimum," she said.

Parker frowned. "Mono-what?"

"Monomorium minimum," she repeated.

"Oh." He frowned. "Whatever." He picked up a stick and poked one of the ants, sending it scurrying away in terror. "How can they pick up such big grains of sand?" he asked curiously.

"Ants are one of the strongest organisms in the world relative to their body mass," Brennan explained rapidly. "They are able to lift almost five times their body weight—" She stopped talking when she glanced at Parker and found him looking at her blankly, obviously not understanding a word coming out of her mouth. She was quiet for a moment, trying to come up with a way to explain it in a way a fourth grader would grasp. "If your dad was an ant," she finally said, "he would be able to lift up to two thousand pounds."

The little boy's face lit up at that and turned towards his father who had been hanging back by the car watching them interact at a distance. "Hey, Dad!" Parker cried, leaping to his feet and charging over to Booth. "Bones says that if you were an ant you could lift like a bazillion pounds!"

"Wow, Parker," Booth said animatedly, following the little boy as he returned to his spot beside Brennan on the sidewalk.

"But you know, Bones," Parker said. "My Dad is already really strong. I bet he could almost lift as much as an ant. Right Dad?"

"I don't know, Parker," Booth said. "Ants are pretty strong." He caught Brennan's eye when he said it, his lips quirking into a smirk. She smiled back at him over the top of Parker's head and he suddenly remembered what he had told her almost a year ago now. _You're going to be a really good mom. _He had meant it. He knew she would be.

"You're Dad is probably much stronger than an ant, Parker," she said now.

"Hmm, maybe you're right, Bones. Ants can lift grains of sand, but I can lift—" He lunged at Parker. "—little boys!"

As Brennan watched, Booth lifted his son high above his head and pretended to bench press him, sending the boy into a fit of giggles. "How's that, Bones? Do you think I'm stronger than an ant?"

Brennan grinned and nodded. "Definitely."

Booth smiled and returned Parker to the ground. "Now lift Bones!" cried Parker, beaming up at his father.

Booth laughed. "Not today, Parks," he said. "You're going to wear your old man out."

"Okay," Parker said. "Can we get ice cream?"

"You bet," Booth said, ushering his son back to the car. Once he was safely buckled in, he walked with Brennan around to the passenger seat and opened the door.

"I can open my own door, Booth," she said.

He only smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "You're so good with him," he said.

"I am?" she asked, her face brightening in this way that made his heart ache.

He nodded. "He loves you."

She smiled. "He loves _you._"

"We make a good team, huh?"

"We do," she said and he saw something flicker across her face that he couldn't quite place.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "Thanks, Bones," he said.

"For what?"

"Everything."

**So I know that was a little angsty. Sorry about that. But the angst will definitely be resolved very quickly. I hate seeing B/B fight just as much as you do. Believe me. Please review! **


	6. I Am Very Happy

**Another chapter! Yay! **

Brennan was just about to get into the shower when she heard the knock on her door. She put on her bathrobe and made her way out of the bathroom to open the door. Her father was standing in her hallway, holding a bag of snicker doodles in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you," he said, moving past her and making his way over to the couch. "Is Booth here?"

"No," she said, still standing by the door. "He's having a boy's night with Parker." She frowned at her father. Sighed loudly. "Dad, you don't need to do this. I'm fine."

"Oh, come on, honey. Cut your old man some slack." He lifted the bag of cookies and grinned. "I brought snicker doodles."

She sighed again, but walked over and sat next to him. He handed her a cookie and the cup of coffee, which she immediately put down on the coffee table without drinking. "It's decaf," he said.

"Why would I care if it's decaf?" she asked softly, dropping her gaze to her lap.

Max smiled and patted her hand. "I know, honey."

She lifted her eyes to his face. "You do?" He nodded. "How?"

He shrugged. "I guess I have a knack. I knew your mother was pregnant with your brother before anyone else did. The doctors thought I was crazy." He laughed. "So did your mother. But sure enough, three weeks and one dead rabbit later, my reputation was restored." Brennan smiled, but he could see the worry in her eyes. "Have you told Booth?"

She shook her head. "No, I just found out today. I don't know how to tell him."

"He'll be thrilled," he assured her, taking a bite out of a snicker doodle.

"How can you possibly know that?" she asked indignantly.

"Let me explain something to you. There are two types of love. There's _I love you right now, but I can't promise how I'll feel three days from now. _Then there's _I love you and every time I look at you I see our future together and the beautiful babies we will make. _You and Booth have the latter of the two."

Brennan frowned. "But there _is _no way to know how you'll feel three days from now," she insisted.

"Rationally speaking, I suppose that's true," Max conceded. He was quiet for a minute. He sighed, put his cookie down and turned to face his daughter. "But Booth isn't rational, honey. He loves you for the girl you were, the woman you are, and the mother you will be."

She smiled, her eyes swimming with tears. "He does?"

Max nodded. "I'm sure of it."

"How?"

"Because that's the way I felt about your mother."

She nodded and bowed her head, her tears falling in earnest now. "He told me once that I would be a good mother," she said softly.

"Oh, honey, you will be," he whispered fiercely.

She looked up at him then and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Thanks, Dad."

Max smiled and took another cookie. "Anytime."

—BB—

Brennan let herself into Booth's apartment and walked into the living room. She took off her coat and rested it across a chair. Slipped out of her shoes. Tiptoed into the bedroom. "Booth?" she whispered.

He opened his eyes and blinked sleepily up at her face. "Bones?" he mumbled. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said automatically. She paused. "I just…missed you."

He smiled knowingly and lifted the covers, silently inviting her to join him. She lay down on the bed beside him and he immediately shifted closer. Draped his arm across her stomach and drew her back against him. She let out a long breath and rested her hand over his hand, slipped her fingers between his fingers. "Booth?" she whispered.

"Mmm?"

"I'm pregnant."

Silence. Stillness. She tensed in his arms. Her dad had been wrong. "You are?" His voice was a murmur in the darkness.

"Yes," she said. She shifted onto her back, tilting her head so that she could see his face. His lips were parted in what looked like surprise, but his eyes were wide with what looked like awe. He shifted his gaze to the hand that was resting on her stomach. He lifted her shirt. Brushed his fingertips over her bare skin.

"You're having my baby?" he breathed.

"Yes," she whispered.

He lifted his gaze to her face. He grinned. The tears in his eyes matched the ones in hers. "God, Bones." He laughed. "I…God."

"Are you happy?" she asked. The wobble in her voice betrayed her insecurity.

His face softened. "I'm happy, Bones." He kissed her lips. She leaned into him. Trailed her fingers up over his stomach and pressed her hand to the very center of his chest. "I'm _very _happy."

She smiled. Her throat felt full. She wanted to cry and she didn't know why. "You are?" she breathed and her voice hitched in the middle.

"I am," he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

He kissed her again. Trailed his lips down, along her jaw, over her throat, her collarbone, her breasts. He paused at her stomach, his hands gripping her waist gently. He pressed his lips to the soft skin and then rested his cheek over the spot he had kissed. Then he lifted his head and moved back up her body, drawing her against his chest. "A baby," he whispered wonderingly.

She smiled. "A zygote."

He gave her a look. "A _baby._"

The smiled faded from her lips. Her eyes were dark blue and beautiful in the moonlight. "A baby," she said.

He lifted his hand and brushed the hair out of her eyes. Trailed his fingers down her cheek. Traced the line of her jaw. Gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and said, "You're beautiful."

She shifted closer to him, suddenly wanting him here, in the darkest hours of the night. She wanted to feel his skin, his arms. Feel him fill her. Feel all the ways that he loved her. He lowered his mouth to hers and she parted her lips to his kisses. Ran her tongue along his lower lip. He groaned a very quiet groan, his hands moving under her shirt, tracing her hip and stomach like he was tracing a familiar route on a map. She raised her arms over her head so that he could lift her shirt up and away. He tossed it on the ground and her bra joined it a moment later. He lifted his hand and brushed the underside of her breast, cupping it gently in his hand. He dipped his head and kissed it softly. "Is this okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said breathily, not wanting him to stop. "They're just a little tender."

He nodded and set back to work with infinite tenderness, infinite sweetness. She moaned as he took her nipple in his mouth, swirling around the sensitive tip with his tongue, before placing open-mouthed kisses around the rosy bud. Then he shifted his attention to her other breast, massaging it in his hand before taking the hardened nub in his mouth.

She arched into him. Ground against his hips. Reached between them and gripped the edge of his t-shirt, sweeping it over his head in one swift motion. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she pressed closer, flattening her breasts against his chest. His mouth was warm and demanding against hers. He probed with his tongue and nipped with his teeth until she was trembling against him, desperate to have him, all of him.

He quickly rid them of their last barriers of clothing and drew her close again. She draped her leg across his hip and found his eyes in the dusky light. He kissed her softly, his arms tightening around her. Then he slipped inside her and she closed her eyes, feeling him fill her. Stretch her. He didn't move right away, wanting desperately to remember this moment. To savor the way she tightened around him. The way her lips parted on a sigh. The way she curled her fingers in his hair. He pressed his lips to her forehead. She tilted her head up and kissed him deep and full on the mouth. "I love you," he promised and then he began to move.

He drew out of her then thrust back in slowly. She gasped softly, tilting her head back, and arched against him, lifting her leg higher on his waist. He ran his tongue along the newly exposed column of her throat. Ran his hands down her back and over her ass, holding her against him, pushing into her. She moaned his name and he picked up the pace. Their mouths met in sloppy, desperate kisses as he filled her again and again. He rolled them over. Pulled her on top of him, his hands at her hips. She lifted herself slightly and then sank down on him, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

He gazed up at her, hovering over him in the half-light of dawn. The woman he loved. The woman who would have his baby. He ran his hands up her sides, grazed his thumbs against the sides of her breasts. He heard her sharp intake of breath, watched her eyes slide shut, smelled her peppermint body wash, her lavender shampoo. She leaned forward and found his mouth again. Hovered over him and into him. He kissed her lips and cheek and jaw and chin and felt her tighten around him. She cried his name when she let go. Felt a rush of warmth as he came inside her a moment later.

She held his gaze for a minute, not wanting to move quite yet. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, her body coated in a sheen of sweat. He lifted his hand and pressed it to the center of her chest, feeling her heart beat beneath his fingers. Then he moved it downward, between her breasts, and rested it against her stomach. She smiled and covered his hand with her own, before lying down beside him and nestling into his chest. He smoothed her hair over her head and kissed her brow. "Baby Bones," he said and she laughed and lifted her head to look at him.

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm happy too," she told him.

He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "I know."

—BB—

The sun was just rising when Brennan began to stir. Booth had been awake for a while, content simply to lie beside her and watch her sleep. She was lying on her back, her face tilted towards him. The sheet was draped across her haphazardly, tucked up to her chest, covering everything except one long, perfect leg. One hand rested across her stomach; he held the other. He watched now as the golden light of morning spread through the room, casting a soft glow across her beautiful face. Her auburn hair was a disheveled halo around her head, her lips the most delicate, lovely shade of pink he had ever seen.

She shifted slightly. Furrowed her brow. Puckered her lips. And, finally, opened her eyes, immediately focusing them on his face. "Morning," she mumbled, her voice hoarse with sleep.

"Morning," he said and smiled as she turned towards him, curling into his chest with a sigh. "How do you feel?"

"Sleepy," she said. She glanced up at him. "Happy."

He smiled and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Me too."

She was quiet for a minute. Her fingers traced lazy patterns across his chest. "Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"My dad said something yesterday…" She trailed off. Glanced up at him, then looked away again. "He said…he said that when you look at me, you see our future and the kids we'll have someday. Is that true?"

He didn't even have to think about it. "Yeah, Bones, it is."

"So whenever you look at me, you imagine a hypothetical future in which we are married with kids?"

"Well, it's not like I stand there and fantasize about school districts and college savings. It's more of a feeling that I get when you're around."

She frowned and propped herself up on her elbow so she could see him better. "What kind of feeling?"

He glanced away for a second, trying to figure out exactly how he wanted to explain it. "When I look at you, I don't just think _I love her. _I think _I want _her _to be the mother of my children._" He paused. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she said, "it does. Obviously you recognize that because I generate a substantial income and occupy a stable place in society, I would be an ideal person to procreate with."

"Bones," he said, giving her a look. "That is _not _why I want _you _to be the mother of my children."

"Oh," she said. "It's not?"

"I want you to be the mother of my children because I _love _you. Because I want a little girl that has your auburn hair and a little boy that has your beautiful blue eyes. Okay?"

She smiled. "Okay."

—BB—

When Brennan walked into the diner that afternoon, she looked infinitely more exhausted and infinitely more sad. She slumped into the chair across from Booth, rested her chin in the heel of her hand and closed her eyes. "You okay, Bones?" Booth asked softly.

"The trial starts tomorrow and there is _no _evidence that isn't completely circumstantial," she shook her head. Her face was drawn, her expression frustrated. "We need to find Terrence Gilroy. We've exhausted all our other options. Hodgins has run the soil samples at least four times, Angela is trying to decode the ransom tapes…" She let out a long breath. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "We're running out of time, Booth."

"We'll figure it out, Bones," he said reassuringly. "We always do."

"Angela is cross-referencing all of data we have on Taffet with the records of the kidnap victims. Maybe some inconstancy will show up there."

"That's the spirit," he said, smiling. "But right now, you have to eat something."

"Booth, I'm not very hungry."

"You're eating for two now, Bones. You can't be skipping meals."

She smiled and nodded. "Fine. But I'm doing this for the baby, _not _for you."

"Whatever you say, Bones."

—BB—

Booth was the one who found him.

Within a couple hours of finding the phone number that turned out to be a GPS coordinate, Booth and Brennan arrived at the scene. At Terrence Gilroy's grave.

The coffin had been unearthed and lay at the bottom of a downward slope. Brennan walked down to it and pulled back the cover. "Is it the kid?" Booth called down to her.

She leaned over the remains. Focused on the bones and not the little boy. "The victim is between the ages of eight and twelve," she called back to Booth, keeping her voice even, detached. "Terrence Gilroy fractured his right ulna at the age of seven and had it reset." She lifted the his right wrist and examined it. She could clearly make out the fracture the boy—the victim—had sustained after falling off his bike. She took a step back. "It's him," she told Booth.

She turned, feeling oddly numb, and walked back up to Booth. "You okay, Bones?" he asked.

She nodded, but didn't say anything. She wanted to go home. She wanted him to hold her and make her forget. "I um…" The tears were there, perched just behind her eyelids. She tried to bury this feeling, this overwhelming grief, but it kept rising and rising, threatening to swallow her. "Booth…" she whispered. Pleaded.

He moved closer, shielding her from the curious stares of the other agents. "Let's go home, Bones."

"He was just a little boy," she said brokenly, her eyes bright with tears.

"I know," he said. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him, not caring who saw.

"He was someone's little boy," she said and he thought of Parker and of their baby.

"I know," he said. He kissed her forehead. "I know."

**So Brennan's pregnant. Kudos to those of you who figured it out from the last chapter. I know that last part was depressing, but I resolved the B/B angst from last chapter just like I promised and threw in a little smuffy goodness for good measure. They are, like, the cutest thing ever. Just sayin'. **


	7. I Like That

**Total and complete fluff alert. Be warned. And enjoy.**

It was close to midnight by the time Terrence Gilroy's remains arrived at the Jeffersonian. Booth watched from the doorway as Brennan supervised the placement of the body atop a table on the platform. He waited patiently as she performed a cursory examination. When she finally pulled off her gloves and made her way to her office, he followed her inside and grabbed her coat, holding it open for her. "Let's go home, Bones," he said.

She turned to face him and frowned when she saw her waiting coat. "No, Booth."

His shoulders slumped. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean I'm not going home," she said tersely, walking back out of her office and onto the platform.

"Bones," he said, jogging after her, "we can't do anything tonight. You need a good night's rest."

She snapped on a new pair of gloves and bent over the table. "I'm fine, Booth," she said. "I want to get started on the remains. We can't waste anymore time."

"_Sleep _is not a waste of time," he said.

"It is when there are remains to be examined that could send a serial killer to jail."

Booth sighed. "Look, Bones, I understand your urgency, but you have to look after yourself now—"

She whirled on him. "Why, Booth? Because I'm pregnant? I'm _fine. _Just because an embryo is implanted in my uterine wall, does not mean I am suddenly incapable of staying up all night working."

He moved closer to her, until there was barely an inch of space between their bodies. "I'm _not _going to let you run yourself into the ground. You need to sleep."

She didn't back off. She tilted her head up. Met his eye. "I didn't see you complaining when Howard Epps was on the loose. I recall forgoing sleep for over twenty-four hours without any complaint from you. Or what about Gormogon? I stayed up two nights in a row trying to identify his apprentice and not _once _did you suggest I take a nap." She turned away from him. "Nothing has changed, Booth."

"Yes, Bones, something has changed." His voice was softer now. "Whether you like it or not."

She bowed her head forward, resting her hands on the edge of the examination table. He moved closer. She could feel the heat from his body against her back. "This baby is not going to change how I do my job. I won't let it."

"I'm not asking you to compromise your work, Bones," he said. "I'm just asking you to be _reasonable._"

She was quiet. She ran her gaze over the remains laid out before her. _He was just a little boy. _"I _can't, _Booth." _He was someone's little boy._ "Please don't ask me to."

He was quiet behind her. He sighed. "Fine. But if you're staying up, so am I."

She turned to face him again. "You're being childish."

"I don't care," he said. Stubborn, as always. "I'll be in your office working if you need me."

She sighed. "Fine."

—BB—

It was close to dawn when Brennan finally walked into her office. Booth was lying on her couch flipping through a report when she came in, looking beyond exhausted. She slipped out of her lab coat and made her way over to the couch, wordlessly lying down beside him. He put down the paper he had been holding and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You okay?"

She nodded. Her eyes slid shut with a deep sigh. "I just want to sleep," she whispered, nestling closer to him. She wrapped her arm around his stomach, her head tucked under his chin.

"Okay," he said quietly. He ran his hand over her hair. Pressed his lips to her forehead. "Night, Bones."

"Night, Booth."

—BB—

It was a little before eight in the morning when Daisy came charging into Cam's office, up in arms and noticeably frantic about something.

"Dr. Saroyan," Daisy said breathlessly. "I have a _huge _problem."

Cam plastered a smile on her face that she hoped looked genuine. "I'm breathless to hear it."

"Well," Daisy began and Cam had to stifle a groan, knowing this was not going to be a quick exchange. "Normally, when I get to the lab in the morning, I go onto the platform. Well, first I go to the bathroom because Dr. Brennan gets _really _annoyed when you take bathroom breaks—"

"Please get to the point faster," Cam said.

"Oh, right. The problem." Daisy took a deep breath before diving back in. "Well, like I was saying, I go onto the platform and Dr. Brennan is always there already. She gives me instructions on what to do: nicks to measure and take casts of, bones to be cleaned, skulls to reassemble—"

Cam held up her hand. "The _point _please, Ms. Wick."

Daisy snapped back to attention. "Right. Okay. The point is that this morning Dr. Brennan wasn't on the platform. I waited for fifteen minutes, but she still didn't come, so I went to her office and…" She paused for dramatic effect. "She was _asleep._"

"Asleep?" Cam repeated, mirroring the intern's surprise.

Daisy nodded, clearly pleased that Cam was as puzzled as she was. "_Asleep._" She was quiet for a minute. "Should I wake her up?" she finally ventured. "I don't want to. They look _really _cute."

Cam frowned. "They?"

"Didn't I mention?" Daisy said. "Booth's asleep too. They both are. I just walked in and they were lying there next to each other on the couch. Well…she's kind of draped over him." She smiled. Shrugged. "It's a pretty narrow couch. I'm surprised they even fit—"

"Please," Cam said, "stop talking."

"Okay," she said, managing to stay quiet for about half a minute before asking, "What should I do?"

Cam shrugged. "Wake them up."

Daisy looked slightly stricken at the suggestion. "Wake them up?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Um, no reason." She turned and walked to the door. "I'll just go…wake them up."

—BB—

"Dr. Brennan?" Daisy hovered in Brennan's doorway, calling out hesitantly to the anthropologist. "Dr. Brennan?" she said again, this time with a little more conviction.

Brennan stirred slightly, but didn't wake up. Daisy sighed, at a loss of what to do. She took a hesitant step into the office. "Dr. Brennan?" she said again, her voice rising from a mere whisper.

Her third entreaty failed to awake her boss, but she did succeed in rousing Booth, who opened his eyes and immediately frowned at Daisy's presence. "Daisy?" he whispered.

"Oh, agent Booth!" she cried. "Thank God you're awake! I was—"

"Hey, hey!" Booth interrupted, shifting his gaze pointedly to Brennan who was still sound asleep beside him. "Keep your voice down. Bones is sleeping."

"Sorry," Daisy mumbled.

"Do you need something?" Booth asked, his impatience evident.

"I need Dr. Brennan."

"Not going to happen," he said. "She needs to sleep."

"But—"

"I'll let you know when she wakes up," he said, leaving no room for argument.

"Okay," Daisy said, turning to leave. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I just—"

With one sharp look, Booth cut off her apology and sent the intern scurrying away. He closed his eyes and began to drift off again, but was once again awoken by someone walking into Brennan's office. It was Cam this time. "Where do you get off terrifying Brennan's interns?" she asked. Her words affected a more serious tone, but her expression was one of pure amusement.

"She was trying to wake up Bones," he explained. "Something I'm still trying to avoid, by the way, so I would appreciate it if you whispered."

Cam eyed the unconscious anthropologist dubiously. "Is she breathing?"

Booth glanced down at Brennan's sleeping face with a loving smile before returning his attention to Cam. "She had a long night."

"Alright," she said. "I'll give you one more hour, but then we really need to get going on this gravedigger case."

Booth nodded. "Thanks, Cam."

After Cam left, he got all of three minutes of peace before Angela appeared. "Don't you people work around here?" Booth grumbled. His tone was annoyed, verging on exasperated.

"Sorry," Angela said, not sounding sorry at all. "I just had to see it for myself."

Booth frowned. "See what?"

Angela gave him an are-you-kidding-me look before saying, "Brennan never sleeps past six in the morning. This is an historic moment."

He rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't go that far."

Angela gave him another look. She lifted two fingers. "Brennan has slept past six only two times in her adult life. Both involved tequila. So unless you two were doing shots in here last night, this is definitely an historic moment."

"Okay, fine, it's historic. Whatever. But I still don't want to wake her up, so could you…"

Angela raised her hands in surrender. "Alright. A girl can take a hint. I'm going."

"Thanks, Ange."

—BB—

Brennan woke up at eight forty-five and it wasn't to the chattering of a noisy intern or the questioning of a curious friend. It was to Booth kissing his way up her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "Mmm," she hummed sleepily, the sound vibrating against Booth's lips. She turned to face him, her thigh coming to rest between his legs, and found his mouth with hers. He parted her lips with his tongue and kissed her softly, mindful of the morning stubble lining his cheeks.

"Morning," he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Morning," she returned, leaning into him as he ran his hand down her side, over the back of her thigh. "What time is it?"

"Close to nine," he told her. She nodded sleepily, her hands tracing lazy circles across his chest. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

"For what?" she asked.

"For last night. I shouldn't have made you feel guilty for doing your job."

"Thank you, but…" She lifted her head and met his eye. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. It was irrational of me to insist on staying up. The _rational _thing would've been to go to sleep. Whether I like it or not, my body is under a lot of stress right now. I should've taken that into account." She paused, her eyes skittering away from his intent gaze. "I'm finding it hard to stay objective with this case, Booth. Last night, I saw a little boy. Not a victim."

"That's okay, Bones. It's okay to see the boy in the remains. It's okay to careabout him."

She shook her head. "No, Booth, it's not. As soon as I let myself become attached, my judgment becomes clouded. I lose my objectivity."

Booth smiled slightly and shifted onto his side so that they were face to face, the lengths of their bodies melded together. "I don't think that's why you're worried about becoming attached."

His eyes were bright and knowing. She lowered her gaze, scared that he was seeing something in her she didn't want to be seen. "I don't know what you mean," she murmured.

"When you let yourself care about the victims you identify, you share their pain. And you feel it deep, Bones, I know you do." He lifted his hand from her waist and trailed it through her hair. "You stay detached to protect yourself as well as to maintain your objectivity."

She was quiet for a long time, her head bowed forward. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was crying. Her breaths were quick and shallow. Her body trembled in his arms. "It hurts, Booth," she breathed. "Looking at that boy hurts me." She lifted her teary eyes to his face. "But it doesn't make sense. He wasn't…" She trailed off, her voice catching on a sob. "He wasn't _my_ little boy."

Booth smiled sadly, knowingly. Kissed her tear-stained cheek. "It's called empathy, Bones. And your capacity for it has always astounded me."

She smiled a small, faltering smile. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt. "How can we be happy about bringing a child into a world like this? Where boys like Terrence Gilroy are killed for no reason?"

"Because, Bones, that baby is a little of you and a little of me and we are going to love it forever. The happiness of that outweighs any negative."

She smiled then, a true, beautiful smile. Kissed him softly. "Thank you, Booth," she murmured, her breath warm and sweet against his lips. "You always make me feel better. Just being near you makes me feel…" She trailed off. Pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips. "Safe. You make me feel safe."

He gave her a watery smile and folded her in his arms. Leaned forward and found her lips. Kissed her mouth. Smelled her smell. Felt like he would die for love of her. "I love you," he said and wondered how many times he could tell her that before it lost all meaning.

"I love you, too," she promised and he shifted his lips to her cheek, her forehead.

They were quiet and still for a moment, her eyes closed, his lips at her brow. "You do like it, don't you?"

She lifted her head and met his eye. "Like what?"

"You said that whether you like it or not, your body is under a lot of stress now because of the baby. But you like it, don't you?"

"I don't like being tired and nauseous."

He gave her a look. "Bones."

She smiled. "I like that I'm having your baby."

He grinned. "I like that you're having my baby."

**Holy freaking crap. I am in love with them. It's ridiculous.**

**So did you guys see the finale? How freaking depressing was that freaking airport scene? Oh my God. I mean, hand holding? Really, Hart? That's all we get? A freaking hand clasp? Okay, the wistful looks of longing were nice and everything, but COME ON! A HAND CLASP! That is so NOT enough to get me through the summer.**

**But luckily for you guys, I have been frantically writing uber-fluffy B&B scenes to soothe my broken heart. So I hope this chapter helps anyone else who was angst-ridden after that finale. Oh and I'm officially on break now, so hopefully I'll be posting chapters more frequently. Enjoy and review please! **


	8. I'm Right Here

Cam jogged up the steps of the platform and surveyed the gathered group. "Where's Dr. Brennan?" she asked.

Hodgins shrugged. Booth looked at the ground. Angela stepped forward. "She left a couple of minutes ago."

Cam frowned. "She left? I thought she found some huge anomaly on Terrence Gilroy's body that we all had to see."

"She did."

Cam raised her eyebrows and glanced at Booth again who seemed far too interested in his shoelaces. "So where did she go?"

"Um, we don't know," Angela said unhelpfully.

"Great," Cam said with a sigh. "My top anthropologist has disappeared on the eve of a serial killer's trial. That's just fantastic."

"Dr. Saroyan?"

Cam turned to Hodgins. "Yes, Dr. Hodgins?"

"She's back."

Everyone turned to see Brennan round the corner at a brisk pace, brushing her hair back into a ponytail. As soon as she came into view, Booth shot off the platform and practically sprinted to her side. He slipped an arm around her waist, affectively halting her progress a few feet away from the waiting group. "Hey, Bones, you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

"I'm fine, Booth," she said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.

"Are you sure? Because we could—"

"Morning sickness is a perfectly normal symptom during the first trimester," she said brusquely.

Booth rolled his eyes. "I know it's perfectly normal, but that doesn't mean you can't go lie down for a while."

"I can't, Booth. I have a lot of work to do."

He nodded. Took a step away from her. His disappointment was painted all over his face. "Okay."

She sighed and moved close to him again. She hated when she hurt him. "I'll tell you if I start to feel really sick."

His eyes brightened. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You will?"

She smiled too. "I will."

He nodded and rested his hand at the small of her back as she stepped around him and made her way up the platform steps. While Brennan pulled on a pair of gloves and took her place beside the remains, Cam caught Booth's eye, her eyebrows raised questioningly. He only smiled and shook his head slightly, turning his attention to Brennan.

"I confirmed cause of death as asphyxiation," she announced, bending over the skeleton. "But I found a pattern of struggle in the bones."

Cam stepped closer, her brow furrowed. "A pattern of struggle congruent with what?"

Brennan lifted her gaze from the remains and leveled it on the pathologist. "Smothering."

Cam was incredulous. "Smothering?"

Brennan nodded. "It appears that Taffet strangled Terr—" She stopped herself. Swallowed hard. "The victim. She then lifted him and threw him against the freezer, before kneeling on his chest, effectively…" She glanced at Booth and his eyes were warm and understanding. "Effectively fracturing the fourth and fifth ribs."

"But that's not how he died?" Cam specified.

Brennan shook her head. "No. He was alive when he was buried."

"God," Angela breathed, her eyes falling to the ground. "That poor boy."

"Victim, Angela," Brennan specified, pulling her gloves off and throwing them in the garbage. "He's a victim." She walked off the platform and Booth jogged after her, following her into her office.

"Hey, Bones are you—"

Before he could finish his sentence she turned towards him, burying her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured into her hair. "It'll be okay."

She lifted her eyes to his. "Will it?"

He nodded and kissed her softly. "Yes."

—BB—

Booth found Brennan sitting on a bench outside the courtroom. He walked over and sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her tense shoulders. "You can do this," he said reassuringly.

"I know, Booth," she said impatiently. "I've testified hundreds of times before."

"Yeah, but this case does hit kind of close to home."

She nodded tiredly and leaned into him. "I know."

He kissed the side of her head, wishing he could protect her from this. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said, letting her heavy head fall onto his shoulder. "Much better."

"I'm glad," he murmured. "But if you start to feel sick—"

"I'll tell you," she assured him. She lifted her head from his shoulder and fixed him with a gaze that was part exasperation, part thankfulness. "This pregnancy has definitely kicked your alpha male tendencies into overdrive."

"Are you annoyed?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yes," she said.

He grinned and kissed her nose. "Liar."

—BB—

"Terrence Gilroy's left greater cornu of the hyoid was compressed, indicating that the assailant strangled the boy using only one hand—the dominant left hand in this case."

Caroline stood. "I'd like to submit writing samples which confirm that the defendant is left-handed."

As she handed off the papers she was holding, Brennan watched from the stand as Taffet, leaning back casually, smugly in her chair, spoke up. "No objection as long as it is also noted that eight percent of the general population is also left-handed." She paused, smirked confidently. "Including you, your honor."

Brennan felt a rush of rage, shocking in its strength and clarity, sweep through her. She glanced at Booth and saw it brewing, deep in his eyes as well. The judge bade her to continue and she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart. "The victim sustained a fracture of the lateral epicondyle and the shaft of the left distal humorous."

She paused and heard sighs of boredom from the jury. She looked over at Booth and caught his eye. As he gazed at her, his eyes steady and warm and reassuring, a strange sense of calm washed over her. She glanced at her hands. Swallowed hard. She had to make this real. "Perhaps I can be clearer," she said softly. "Terrence Gilroy's bones could only have been broken by someone kneeling on top of him as they pushed him into the freezer. The radiating fracture lines show that the assailant had to be between one hundred and twenty five and one hundred and thirty five pounds." She turned and looked at Taffet. Met her smug gaze. "The weight of the defendant."

"Objection," Taffet interjected, "this is speculation."

"Are you questioning my qualifications?" Brennan burst out before the judge could speak. "Because you will not find a more experienced or respected forensic anthropologist anywhere in the world. So I would appreciate not being interrupted until I finish testifying."

Taffet raised her eyebrows at the outburst. Brennan lowered her eyes, hating that she was getting to her. Hating that she couldn't remain rational, detached.

"Dr. Brennan, I'll make the rulings." The judge turned to Taffet. "Overruled. Continue."

Brennan took a deep breath and shifted her gaze to the TV screen beside her. "Since these broken bones were caused by the assailant's knees and the chipping on the boy's knee caps was caused by the toes of her heavy boots we can determine the length of her shin."

"And what is the significance of the shin length?" Caroline asked, lingering beside the jury.

"It gives us the height of the assailant, which is five feet, four inches—the same height as the defendant." Brennan swallowed. Kept her voice steady. Felt the rage like a sickness deep inside her. "It is clear from the circumstantial evidence and these facts that this child was attacked with vicious cruelty by Ms. Taffet."

"Objection!" Taffet exclaimed again. "The jury makes that determination not the witness."

Booth saw the tears of frustration shining in Brennan's eyes as she fought against the woman, her voice hard and rough and filled with grief. "A five-foot-four assailant crushed the boys chest, choked him and finally caused him a torturous death by burying him alive."

"Objection! Speculation!" Taffet cried, a glint of satisfaction shining in her eye at Brennan's pain. "She can't know what the witness felt."

"I was buried alive," Brennan said, her voice breaking. "Which makes me uniquely qualified to comment on his horror."

"Objection, your honor, this is grandstanding. Unless the witness has any additional facts—"

"Sustained."

The judge's level voice snapped Brennan back to the reality of her situation. She took a deep breath and forced the grief, the rage, the hopelessness away. As Caroline handed the witness over to the defendant, she raised her eyes and met Taffet's cold gaze. "Dr. Brennan," she began, "don't you think your trauma as a kidnap victim prevents you from being objective?"

Caroline leapt to her feet. "Objection! She is testifying as an expert witness, not a victim."

"She brought up being buried alive, your honor," Taffet countered, her voice steady and cool.

"She did, Ms. Julian. Overruled."

Taffet turned back to Brennan. "It is only natural that you would want to construct facts that would give you closure and peace."

"I resent your implication. I do not let my emotions cloud my findings," Brennan insisted, hating that it almost felt like a lie on her lips.

"What about your hormones?" Taffet asked.

Brennan's gaze shot to Booth. "I-I don't understand the question—"

"You're pregnant, aren't you, Dr. Brennan? All that progesterone and estrogen is bound to make you emotional, cloud your judgment, is it not? Make you desperate to avenge this innocent little boy's death?"

"Objection!" Caroline practically yelled. "Dr. Brennan did _not _bring up her pregnancy, therefore it is not fair game for questioning by the defendant."

The judge nodded. "Sustained."

"I apologize, your honor," Taffet said smoothly. "Dr. Brennan, is it true that you're seeing an FBI psychologist?"

Brennan was flustered now. "What? That has nothing to do with—"

"A yes or no will do, Dr. Brennan."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean—"

Taffet was already turning away and Brennan was helpless to stop her. "No further questions," she said dismissively.

"My findings are sound," Brennan said softly, desperately.

"You may step down, Dr. Brennan."

"My findings are sound…"

—BB—

Brennan disappeared after the trial. Booth looked for her at the Jeffersonian. The diner. Her apartment. He searched for her all day, growing increasingly desperate and worried. Then, at midnight, he heard a knock on his door and she was right there, standing on his doorstep. "Bones," he breathed, his voice hoarse with relief.

"Hi," she said softly. "Sorry I left after the trial. I just…I just couldn't be there."

"Okay," he murmured.

She smiled a thin smile. "Okay."

He reached out and touched her wrist and watched as she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "I was worried about you," he said softly. She nodded. "You could have been hurt." She nodded again. "You could've been dead."

His voice cracked on the last word and he thought of her bound and gagged, a gun raised over her head. He thought of her buried in the darkness, alone and scared. He thought of her bleeding in his arms, his lips pressed to her hair.

She lifted her eyes to his and he saw the pain etched across her beautiful face. "I'm right here, Booth."

He slipped his arm around her waist. Pulled her forward. Caught her against his broad chest. "Stay with me," he said, not knowing exactly what he meant.

He slept beside her every night. Held her in his arms. Felt her breath fluttering across his skin. He had her and held her and felt her everywhere he went. So why did he feel like she was slipping through his fingers?

"I'm right here," she said again. Her arms were just as tight and clinging as his.

He pulled back and stared at her. She had to fight not to look away. His gaze was intense and possessive and needy. This love was too much. She would drown in it.

He bowed his head forward and caught her lips in a searing kiss. "You're here," he murmured, his breath hot against hers. He pulled back again and she saw a question in his eyes that she didn't want to answer.

She shook her head slightly and rocked onto her toes, pressing her lips back to his. He groaned as her breasts climbed higher on his chest, as their hips shifted together, and swooped her into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. He dropped her on the bed unceremoniously and pulled off his shirt, his pants, his boxers, before laying her bare as well.

She opened her arms to him then and he lowered himself against her. Pressed a thigh between her legs. Rubbed his chest against her nipples. "Booth," she pleaded, begged, whispered.

He kissed her and held her and felt drunk on her smell and on her body. Her hands were everywhere against his hot skin, her arms all around him. He rolled onto his side and pulled her with him. He fit his fingers in the bend of her knee and pulled her leg up, high on his waist. He filled her and heard her gasp. Felt her still in his arms, a low moan escaping her lips.

He kissed her face and felt a tenderness rise up in his chest for her, for this woman he loved so desperately and so achingly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Reveled in their joining, in the closeness of the moment. She pressed her face to his chest and rocked against him slowly, gently, until she felt the slow-burn in the pit of her stomach rise and engulf her. When he felt her shudder against him, his name a moan on her lips, he let himself go, exploding deep inside her.

He rolled onto his back and felt her melt against him, sated and spent, her eyes already drooping into sleep. He pulled the sheet up around them and kissed her forehead. "Bones?" he asked softly.

"Mmm?"

"Where did you go after the trial?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. The sleep had gone from her face, replaced by a remembered grief. "My mother's grave," she whispered. She fell silent then and was quiet for a long time, but he didn't say anything, sensing that there was more she wanted to tell him. "I miss her," she finally said. "Sometimes I wish I could talk to her."

"About what?" he asked gently.

"You," she admitted quietly. "I wish I could tell her about you. And our baby."

"She would be so proud of you," he told her, his heart in his throat.

She smiled slightly and stretched up, pressing her lips to his jaw. "She would've liked you, I think."

He pulled her closer and she rolled on top of him. Sighed softly. Smoothed her hands across his chest. His eyes were bright as he smiled up at her face, hovering over him. "Yeah?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "I remember she was obsessed with that movie 'An Officer and a Gentleman' when it first came out. She went to see it about six times in the theater. I think my dad was a little jealous of Richard Gere. He said she always had a things for strong men in uniforms." She laughed softly and met his eyes. "I think you fit the bill."

"You think so?" he asked, his voice turning husky. "You think I'm strong?" She nodded and lowered her lips to his. "And sexy?" She nodded again and kissed him harder, deeper. He groaned softly. Ran his hands up the backs of her thighs. Gripped her ass and thrust into her.

She let out a shuddering moan and closed her eyes, her head bowing forward towards his chest. He lay there beneath her for one still, halting moment before flipping them over so that she was trapped under him. He kissed her softly, trailing his lips across her body, tasting the salt on her skin. He pulled out and filled her again and she arched against him, letting him take her wherever he wanted to go, as long as it was away from the sadness, away from the pain.

**Okay, so, maybe a little angsty? I couldn't help it. It's hard to be fluffy when there's a serial killer playing mind games with Brennan. **

**I hope the trial scene was okay. I really wanted to do it, because I loved the idea of throwing a pregnancy twist in there, but since I'm not an anthropologist, I basically used the same dialogue from the show. I hope that wasn't annoying/boring. **

**I gave you a nice angsty, smut scene, though, with some fluff thrown in for good measure, so if you wanted to thank me, you could do so by pressing that blue button below. I'd be much obliged. **


	9. I Don't Want You to Change

**Sorry that this was a long time coming, but I think you'll like this one.**

When Booth woke up, Brennan wasn't beside him. He stretched his arm across the empty space beside him as if he would find her in the rumpled covers, before glancing across the room. She was standing in front of the window in one of his dress shirts, silhouetted in front of the curtains, her arms crossed over her chest.

He rolled out of bed and walked over to her. Stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Morning," he murmured.

"Morning," she said distractedly.

"You okay?"

She shook her head slightly. "Yeah, I think so," she said slowly. "I was just…thinking."

He nodded and ran his hands over her stomach. Pressed his lips to her neck. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh and leaned back against his chest, her head tilting to the side as his lips trailed up to the spot behind her ear. "That feels good," she mumbled.

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement. His fingers moved to the buttons on her shirt, undoing them from the bottom up until the shirt parted to his waiting hands. He ran his fingers down over her hips. Trailed them back up toward her navel. He rested his hands against her stomach for a beat, before sliding them up and cupping her breasts.

She moaned softly and arched into his hands. Turned in his arms, stretching up to press a desperate kiss to his lips. "I love you," she said suddenly and her voice was so raw and urgent that it made him pause. Pull back and smile at her beautiful, flushed face. "What?" she asked self-consciously, feeling the color rise in her cheeks.

"Nothing," he said softly. He kissed her forehead. "Nothing, I just…" His expression softened. "I love you, too."

She smiled back hesitantly and kissed him again. He pushed the shirt off her shoulders and moved back towards the bed. He lay down and pulled her down with him. Felt her stretch against him, her lips soft and searching. "I love you, too."

—BB—

Booth watched Brennan's eyes drift shut beside him and hated that they had to go to work soon. "We should get up," he said.

"I know," she murmured, her eyes still closed. "I don't want to."

He smiled. "Me neither." She nestled closer to him, her arm wrapping around his stomach as if to keep him in place. He glanced down at her beautiful, sleepy, sated face and said, "Hey, Bones?"

"Mmm?"

"Marry me."

She opened her eyes and sat up, a confused, half-smile on her face. "What?"

He sat up too, his eyes suddenly bright. "Marry me," he said again. He reached out and brushed her cheek with his fingers, but she pulled away, out of his grasp.

"Booth, you know I don't believe in—"

"C'mon, Bones," he said like he was trying to persuade her to take a bite of his pie. "We're having a baby. We love each other. We should get married."

She scoffed and reached for his shirt, pulling it back around her bare shoulders. "No, Booth, we shouldn't. Marriage is an archaic institution, leftover from a time when women were regarded as the property of men. There's no rational reason to participate in such an outdated custom."

"Yes, there is," he said.

She frowned. "Name one."

He paused, searching for a rational reason he could persuade her with. "We would save on health insurance."

"I'm a millionaire, Booth," she said, bowing her head as she buttoned up the shirt. "I don't need to save on anything."

"Bones, I _love _you. I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife."

She stood up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. She took out the toothbrush she kept at his place and started brushing her teeth. Booth sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. Finally, she spit and turned to him. "I won't marry you, Booth."

His shoulders slumped. "Why not?"

"I already told you," she said and began brushing again.

"No, you told me why marriage is stupid and old-fashioned, but you didn't tell me why you won't marry me."

She huffed out a sigh. "Booth, why are you asking me to do this?"

He stood up and walked over to stand in the doorway of the bathroom. "I already told you." He smiled. "You know. True love, babies."

She frowned and turned towards the mirror. "I just don't understand why you're pushing this," she said slowly, genuinely confused. "You know me. You know I don't want to get married."

He sighed and walked over to the closet. Yanked open the doors. Grabbed one of his shirts and put it on. "I just thought you might've changed your mind now that we're having a baby together."

"Why would a fetus change my beliefs?"

Booth sighed, knowing he shouldn't be mad, but feeling increasingly annoyed with her anyway. "It's a _baby, _Bones, not a fetus."

"Fine, a _baby_," she said mockingly. "Why would a _baby _change my beliefs?"

"Because a baby deserves a mother and a father."

Brennan raised her eyebrows. She lifted a finger and pointed at him. "Father," she said slowly, like she was explaining something to a four-year-old. She turned the finger towards herself. "Mother."

He shook his head, genuinely pissed off now. He pulled on a pair of pants and tried to zip them, but the zipper stuck. He pulled on it again and again, growing more and more frustrated with each tug. "Fuck!" he growled. He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. Hard.

"Booth—" Brennan began, moving towards him.

He whirled on her. Held up a hand to cut her off. "Please, just…stop talking."

She backed off and he saw the hurt flash across her face. The next moment, though, it was gone. Then came the anger. "You can't hold this against me," she said, her voice hard and stubborn as ever.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because you know, you _know_, that I don't want to get married. You had the right to ask, but you shouldn't have expected any other answer than the one you got."

"You could've at least _thought _about it," he said. His tone was almost desperate. He suddenly realized he wanted this more than he thought.

"There's nothing to think about, Booth," she said softly.

He sighed. Pressed his fingers to his forehead. "Is the idea of spending the rest of your life with me really that revolting?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Her face seemed to crumple before his eyes. She dropped her eyes to the floor. "No, Booth. It's not." Her voice was soft. Fragile. God, he was such an ass. "You know it's not."

He let out a long breath. "Look, Bones—"

"I don't understand why you're so angry," she said, her voice wobbly and vulnerable. "I thought you…I thought you would understand. I didn't think you would…" She trailed off and glanced at the ground. To his dismay, he realized she was close to tears. He had _never _made her cry.

"Fuck," he breathed. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to…" He took a step towards her. "Can you forgive me?"

She looked up at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears. She looked uncertain and it scared him. "Bones," he said desperately. "Please. I'm sorry."

"I'm going to work, Booth," she said, her hard, level tone a complete contrast to the pain, the _betrayal,_ etched across her face. She turned away but he called after her.

"Wait," he said.

She paused near the doorway. He walked over to her and she let him pull her into his arms. He held her tightly, but it felt all wrong. Her body was tense, her eyes filled with doubt. She didn't melt into him like she used to. She didn't rest her head on his chest. Sigh when he rubbed circles across her back. He leaned down and kissed her, but her lips were unmoving. "I love you, you know that?" he whispered into her ear.

He wanted to take back everything he said in the past twenty minutes. He wanted to go back to lying under the covers, to looking at her lovely face, flushed and sleepy. He wanted to feel her melt into him after sex, feel her fingers resting over his heart. He wanted to kiss her to sleep and hold her all day.

She pulled away. "I'll see you later."

—BB—

Brennan wasn't surprised when Angela burst into her office at eight o'clock that morning, but she was surprised at the effect the interruption had on her. As soon as she saw her best friend, her eyes filled with tears.

"Bren! I can't believe you didn't tell me—"

As soon as Angela saw the look on her friend's face, she stopped in her tracks, her voice softening immediately. "Hey, what's wrong?" she murmured, dropping her sketch pad on the table and hurrying to her friend's side.

Brennan glanced at her hands and shook her head. "I don't know."

Angela frowned in that knowing way she did when Brennan tried to lie to her. "Yes, you do. What happened?"

Brennan let out a long, shaky breath. "Booth asked me to marry him," she said, her voice cracking on the words.

Angela's expression was somewhere between surprised, angry and hopeful. "He did?"

Brennan nodded. "This morning." She lifted her hand and wiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes. "I said no."

Angela sighed. Not in an annoyed way, but in an understanding way. She walked over and took Brennan's hand, leading her over to the couch. "How did he react?"

"Horribly," Brennan said brokenly. "He was so mad, Ange. I didn't know what to do. He _knows _I don't want to get married."

Angela nodded knowingly. "His head might know that, but his heart might've forgotten."

"The heart cannot process memory or emotion, Angela…"

"I'm speaking in a metaphor here, sweetie. Just bear with me."

Brennan nodded and wiped her eyes again. "So what should I do?"

"Look. Booth is a traditional guy. You know that. It's the Catholic in him. Even if he _thought _he was okay with not getting married, I'll bet you any money that as soon as you got pregnant, he just couldn't help himself."

"Okay," Brennan said slowly. "I can see that; but why did he get so angry? Was he really expecting me to say yes?"

"I think that the anger was more about him than about you."

Brennan frowned. "I don't know what that means."

Angela sighed, searching for the words to explain this in the right way. "Booth is a heart man. I'll bet that without even thinking about it, he's been nursing this hope that someday you'll give in and marry him. And I'll also bet that as soon as he heard you say 'no' he realized just how much he wanted you to say 'yes'. And I'll bet he hated himself for it." Angela smiled sadly and wrapped her arm around Brennan's shoulders. "I mean, he let himself hope once and look what he got? A little boy that he sees every other weekend."

Brennan lifted a wide-eyed gaze to Angela's face. "Do you think he's scared that I'll leave him and keep him from our baby?"

Angela nodded. "I think somewhere deep down, that's his greatest fear."

Brennan shook her head. "He shouldn't think that. Just because I don't want to perform some convoluted ritual in a church doesn't mean I'm any less committed to him."

Angela smiled. "Maybe you should tell him that."

—BB—

"The jury finds the defendant guilty."

The words were like music to Booth's ears. He immediately turned to find Brennan and saw her hugging Angela, a wide grin blooming across her face. He felt himself smiling, just because she was smiling. "Bones," he called. His voice was soft, but she still heard it, even above the din filling the courtroom.

She walked over to him, a hesitant smile lighting her features. "Hey," she said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he returned, his voice rough and full.

"So," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "Taffet's convicted."

He smiled. "Yeah, I saw."

"Yeah," she echoed. Her voice was faraway, her eyes searching. She looked confused and sad. He didn't want her to. "Booth, I…" She felt like she was about to cry.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She kept her arms folded over her chest, but he felt her lean into him. Rest her head on his shoulder. "It's okay," he said softly, his lips at her ear. "You're okay."

He wrapped his arms around her without thinking and was relieved when she relaxed against him. She pressed her face into his chest and closed her eyes. He held her for a long time, there in the middle of the courtroom. The noise slowly died down. One by one, everyone filed outside. And still she kept her head bowed against his chest, her arms around his waist. He smiled at Angela and Hodgins as they left, ignored Sweets' probing gaze, and whispered a low goodbye to Cam when she passed him, smiling supportively. Brennan didn't lift her head to look at him until the room was empty, until they were surrounded by silence.

When she finally looked up at him, her blue eyes were full. "I will never keep you from our baby, Booth," she said. The words were rushed. Urgent.

He shook his head slightly and lifted a hand to her cheek. He never wanted to stop touching her. "Where did that come from?" he asked softly.

"I just…" She trailed off and moved closer. He obligingly tightened his grasp around her. "I want you to know that no matter what happens between us, I will never keep you from our child."

He nodded. "Thank you, Bones." He lifted his hand and brushed a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

She nodded, looking relieved and tilted her head up, pressing her mouth to his. He kissed her back and held her in his arms and felt his heart lighten. "I'm sorry I asked you to marry me. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I understand why you asked," she said. "But just because I don't want to get married doesn't mean I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you."

He smiled. "I know."

She smiled too and kissed him again, long and deep. "Good."

—BB—

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" she asked him.

They were lying on his bed facing each other, their bodies only inches apart. The covers were pulled up around their shoulders. His hand was trailing up and down her side in lazy, comforting strokes. "A girl," he told her, his voice low. "A little girl that looks just like you. That rolls her eyes like you. That smiles like you. And laughs like you." He paused. "That lives like you and loves like you. Unconditionally and without restraint."

She smiled shyly at his words, the slightest blush blooming in her cheeks. She shifted closer to him so he wouldn't see. Kissed his chest and the base of his throat. "I wouldn't mind a boy," she admitted softly, her breath whispering across his skin. "A little baby Booth."

He grinned at her and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. She sighed into his lips and pressed closer. Draped her leg across his hips. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, sliding them together. He loved how their bodies locked together like jigsaw pieces. Like they were made for each other. He realized that pretty soon they wouldn't be able to fit together quite so closely. The thought made him smile.

"You're so amazing," he breathed. He kissed her nose. "I'm in awe of you."

"But I'm not doing anything," she said. He didn't miss the spark of mischief that flashed through her eyes when she followed up that comment by grinding into his hips.

He groaned and rolled them over. Pinned her underneath him. "I beg to differ," he said roughly. He undid the buttons on her blouse, the clasp on her bra, and scattered kisses across her breasts, which were slightly bigger now in a way that he thought was very sexy. "You make me crazy," he told her. "With your bickering and your contradictions and your kisses and your moans." He paused and caught her eye, her hazy, half-lidded gaze. "And knowing that you're carrying our baby…" He trailed off. Swallowed hard. "You've never been more beautiful to me."

She smiled at him. Lifted a hand to his cheek. "Thank you, Booth," she murmured with so much sincerity that it only made him love her more, want her more.

He gave her a quick, sweet kiss then moved down her body, kissed his way to her belly button, and rested his head on her stomach. Pressed his ear against the smooth skin and waited, his entire body still, as if he would be able to hear the baby's heartbeat if he was quiet enough. He felt Brennan run her fingers through his hair. He could almost hear the smile in her voice when she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Listening," he said.

"To what?"

He looked up at her and rolled his eyes. "The baby," he said like it was obvious_._

She laughed. "You're not going to hear anything, Booth."

He sighed and kissed her stomach. "Let a man dream, would ya, Bones?" He moved back up her body and kissed her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Watched him watching her. "If there was anyone in the world that I would change for, it would be you Booth." She ran her hand down his cheek. Brushed her thumb over his lips. "But I love you, because I know you won't ask me to."

He smiled. It was moments like these when he remembered the staggering weight of his love for her. "I don't want you to change, Bones. You're perfect just the way you are."

**So what do ya'll think? This was a pretty loaded chapter: angst, resolution of angst, and fluff. I toyed with idea of dragging on the drama and torturing you guys for a while, but decided against it. I did promise that this would be a fluffy story and I'm acting accordingly. Plus, I can never seem to keep these two apart for very long. The logical thing always seems to be a quick resolution and ensuing make-up sex/fluff. All well. What's a girl to do?**

**Reviews please! I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but you honestly have no idea how much I love to read what you guys think. It's kind of sad actually. Lol.**


	10. I Am Known for My Cooking

**This is about as fluffy as it gets. I blame Parker. That little guy is just **_**way **_**too cute.**

It was three o'clock in the afternoon on a Saturday and Booth was sitting on his couch watching a documentary about the mating habits of sea horses. Brennan was sound asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, her soft snores punctuating the ambient music drifting from the speakers as two sea horses danced around each other on the screen. She had fallen asleep about ten minutes into the production, but Booth had kept watching—something that he would never, ever admit to her. He would only tease her mercilessly for dozing off during a film she had only convinced him to watch after promising to perform every sexual favor in the book.

He turned away from the sea horses and glanced at her sleeping face, deciding to move her to the bed so she wouldn't wake up with a crick in her neck. Plus, this was his weekend with Parker, so it wouldn't hurt to catch some alone time with the little guy while Bones finished her nap. He might even begin to broach the topic of siblings. Brennan said she wanted to be there when Parker found out, but it couldn't hurt to test the waters.

With that thought, Booth clicked off the TV and eased himself off the couch. He turned and scooped up Brennan in his arms easily. She sighed in her sleep. Turned her head into his chest, her hand resting over his heart. But she didn't wake up. He was halfway to the bedroom when he heard the doorbell. He paused, torn between tucking Brennan in and saving Rebecca and Parker from standing in his hallway for too long. With a sigh he turned and walked over to the door. "It's open," he called softly, hoping Rebecca would hear.

She did. The door swung open and Booth grinned at his son, who beamed back, before frowning at the sight of Bones, unconscious in his father's arms. "Hey, you guys," he said, flashing a smile at Rebecca who was looking just as confused as Parker. "Come on in. I'll be right back."

He left them standing in the doorway and hurried into the bedroom, Brennan still cradled in his arms. He placed her on the bed and pulled the covers up around her. "Mmm, Booth," she mumbled, opening her eyes and focusing a bleary gaze on his face. "Is Parker here?" she asked sleepily.

"Yeah, but don't get up," he said, reaching out to brush the hair out of her eyes.

"You sure?" she murmured, her eyelids already sliding shut.

"Positive," he told her. He smiled and kissed her cheek, before heading back out into the living room.

As soon as she spotted him, Rebecca walked over, leaving Parker on the couch, happily engrossed in an episode of Spongebob Squarepants. "So I'll be back to pick him up tomorrow at five, okay?"

He nodded. Smiled. "Sounds good. Thanks, Becca."

She nodded and turned. Grabbed her purse and left. Booth made his way over to the couch and plopped down next to his son. "Hey, bud," he said, ruffling Parker's curls.

"Hey, dad," Parker said quickly, barely glancing away from the television.

"Can we talk?" Booth asked.

Parker glanced from Booth to Spongebob and back to Booth. "Okay," he said, sighing mightily and clicking off the TV. "What do you want to talk about?"

Booth shrugged. "Anything you want."

Parker was quiet for a second, thinking. "Can I ask you something?" he finally asked, fixing Booth with a gaze that was almost suspicious.

"Sure. Anything."

"Is Bones okay?"

"Bones?" Booth repeated, surprised. "Yeah, bud, she's fine. Why?"

"She just looked pretty tired is all," Parker explained. "The only time I've ever seen anybody that sleepy was that one time when you were really sick and threw up for like three days straight and then you slept for _forever_ and wouldn't wake up for anything. Do you remember that?"

Booth winced at the memory. "Yeah, Parks, I remember."

"So," his son continued, sounding disturbingly similar to Brennan when she was about to draw some convoluted conclusion about some convoluted theory he couldn't even begin to understand, "is Bones sick?"

Booth hesitated. "No," he finally said.

"You paused," Parker declared as if that proved something.

"So?" Booth said.

Parker gave him a look. "Sweets says that when people pause it means they're lying and he has almost as many degrees as Bones so I think I'm gonna believe him."

Booth sighed. This wasn't exactly how he'd hoped this conversation would go. "She's not sick, okay, bud? I promise."

"Then what's wrong with her?" Booth hesitated again. "Look, dad," Parker said, all seriousness. "I can just go in there and ask her myself, so why don't you just tell me?"

Booth eyed his son. "Okay, fine. Just wait here for _one _second."

Parker looked extremely pleased with himself when he said, "Okay."

Booth shook his head and got up from the couch, hurrying into the bedroom. Brennan was sound asleep, curled up on her side under the covers. He walked over and crouched beside the bed so his face was level with hers. "Bones," he whispered. She sighed. "Hey, babe, I know you're tired, but you gotta wake up for a second."

She sighed again and mumbled something indiscernible. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead and each of her closed eyelids. "Bones," he said again.

She finally opened her eyes and peered at him. "What's going on?" she asked softly.

"Parker is kind of catching on to the whole pregnancy thing and I knew you wanted to be there when he found out, so…"

Brennan smiled. "So you want to tell him now," she said. It wasn't a question. She understood.

He nodded. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," she said, but he could tell she was still exhausted. He loved her for her patience. "Bring him in."

"Okay," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, before running to fetch Parker.

In the four seconds it took Booth to get Parker, Brennan fell asleep again. Parker was the one to wake her up this time. He tiptoed over to the bed and poked her shoulder. "Bones?" he said.

She opened her eyes. "Hey, Parker," she said, managing a smile even in her sleep-hazed state.

"Are you awake?" the little boy asked.

Brennan nodded and pulled herself into a sitting position. "Yes," she promised, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"So," Parker began once he was satisfied that she was conscious, "what's wrong with you?"

She smiled. "Nothing, Parker. I'm fine."

"Then why are you so sleepy?"

Brennan glanced at Booth, then at his son. "Because," she said, "my body is supporting another life."

Parker looked stricken. "You mean like an alien?"

Brennan frowned in confusion and Booth decided this was a good time to jump in. He walked around his son and sat beside Brennan on the bed, slipping his arm around her waist. "What Bones is trying to say, Parker, is that she's going to have a baby."

Parker still looked worried. "No aliens?"

Booth shook his head. "Nope. Just a baby."

"So I'm going to have a brother or sister soon?"

"In about seven and a half months," Brennan said.

The look of horror brought on by the prospect of alien invasion was quickly replaced by a grin. "Really?" Parker said.

Brennan nodded. "Really."

"So my brother or sister is in your stomach _right now?_" he breathed wonderingly like it was the coolest thing he'd ever heard.

"That's right," Bones said simply. "Right in here." She rested her hand over her stomach and Parker whispered an awe-struck _wow._ He gently placed his little hand over hers and Booth found himself grinning like a fool because he couldn't remember the last time he was this happy.

—BB—

Parker woke up just as the sun was beginning to rise. He hated when he woke up at this time. The half-light of dawn made everything look a lot more shadowy and a lot more scary than normal. He pulled the blankets over his head and closed his eyes tight. He knew he was nine and wasn't supposed to be scared of shadows anymore and he wasn't, _really_, he wasn't. But sometimes the shadows were shaped like things that really were scary. Like monsters, or aliens, or evil clowns.

One such shadow was currently flickering across his dresser and try as he might, Parker couldn't fall back asleep. He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He landed on the ground with a quiet thud and tiptoed out into the hall, pausing outside his dad's bedroom door. He reached for the handle and pushed it open, hoping that his dad and Bones weren't kissing. It was gross when his dad kissed Bones, but as he surveyed the situation from the doorway he was glad to see that there was absolutely no kissing happening. His dad's face was really close to Bones', they might kiss at any second, but they weren't. They were just talking.

His dad said something that made Bones smile. He smiled too and leaned in to kiss her nose, which Parker thought was kind of nice. His mom kissed him on the nose sometimes and he liked it. Then Bones kind of sighed and rested her head on his dad's chest. She got that tired look again and Parker thought that it must be a lot of work to make a whole other person inside of you.

Parker pushed the door open a little further and this time his dad saw him. Smiled and said, "Hey, Parks. You okay?"

Parker was feeling a lot better so he said, "Yes," but followed that up quickly with a "can I get in the bed with you for a while?" because he didn't feel quite ready to go back to his own room.

Booth smiled. "Sure, bud, come on up."

Parker grinned and leapt onto the bed, wedging himself between Bones and his dad to prevent any lip contact. Bones smiled and shifted onto her back to make room. "Are you still tired, Bones?" he asked.

Brennan smiled. "A little," she lied. The truth was she felt like she could sleep for a week and still be ready to take a nap.

Booth seemed to sense this, because he quickly suggested that he and Parker go watch cartoons in the living room, but she quickly nixed this idea.

"No, it's fine," she said quickly. "Stay here."

Parker watched as Booth caught Bones' eye over his head. He hated when grown-ups did that—talked to each other without saying anything. It was frustrating because he never knew what was going on. "Booth, it's fine," Bones finally said, an answer to some unspoken concern. "I want you guys here."

Parker turned to his dad, who still seemed doubtful. "See, dad? She wants us to stay." And with that he flopped back against the pillows, grinning at Booth triumphantly. Brennan smiled at him and then at Booth as he settled in beside his son. "Hey, dad?"

"Mmm?"

"When the baby comes, will I have to give up my room?"

Booth smiled. "No, Parks. You won't have to give up your room."

"Will I have to share it?" Parker asked curiously, not looking opposed to the idea.

"Well," Booth said thoughtfully, watching as Brennan's eyes drifted shut. "For a while, the baby will sleep in here, with Bones and me, but when it gets older, it'll need its own room."

"So we'll share?" Parker prompted again.

"Probably not, bud. By then, _hopefully_, I'll have a bigger place so both of you can have your own room." What he really hoped was that he and Brennan would be living together, but he wasn't going to push it just in case she was still awake and listening.

Parker nodded seriously, a hint of disappointment flashing across his face. "Oh, okay," he said softly. He was quiet for a minute, his eyes narrowed in thought. He turned to glance at Bones, who was now sleeping soundly. "Wow, dad. Bones is really sleepy."

Booth smiled and ruffled his son's hair. "She is, Parks."

Parker glanced at Brennan's stomach. He tentatively reached out and rested his hand on it. She barely stirred at the touch. "Because of the baby?" he asked.

"Yup," Booth said. "Her body is used to only having to take care of one person, so it's kind of worn out right now."

Parker nodded. "That makes sense."

Booth smiled. "C'mon, bud. Why don't you head out to the kitchen and start getting out the ingredients for pancakes. We can make Bones breakfast."

"Cool!" Parker exclaimed, bounding off the bed and out the door.

Booth turned back to Brennan, who had barely opened her eyes at the commotion. "I'm going to make breakfast for you," he whispered.

She smiled lazily and he leaned down. Kissed her softly. "Thank you," she said simply, her lips brushing his.

"You're welcome."

—BB—

"Dad! You got pancake batter on the floor!"

Booth laughed. "Sorry, bud. I'll try to be more careful."

Parker sighed and took the ladle from his dad. "Like this. See, dad?" He gave Booth a meaningful look before carefully demonstrating how to swipe the bottom of the ladle against the rim of the bowl so as to prevent any dripping.

"Got it," Booth said, unable to conceal his grin.

"Brent showed me how to do that," Parker said casually and just like that, Booth's grin was gone. He was glad Parker was focused on the pancake sizzling in the pan, because it took him a few seconds to rearrange his face into a neutral expression.

"He sounds like a nice guy," Booth said, schooling himself to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool. Yesterday, he took me to the park and taught me how to—" Parker's sentence trailed off into a yelp as he felt a thick, cool liquid slide through his hair and down his back.

He spun around to find Booth holding the ladle over his head, a devilish smile on his face. They stood facing each other for a moment, before Parker grabbed the bowl of batter and took off after his dad.

Booth sprinted around to the other side of the counter, ladle still in hand. Parker paused, lunged to the right then to the left, before dipping his hand into the bowl and flinging a glob of batter across the counter, right in Booth's face. Booth retaliated by spraying a ladle full at his son.

"You are so dead!" Parker declared and with that, he climbed onto the counter and jumped onto his dad's back, turning the entire bowl of batter over onto his head.

That was the scene that Brennan walked in on: Parker clinging to Booth's back, his arms around his neck. Booth laughing and choking on the batter that was dribbling down his face from the bucket overturned and resting like a helmet on his head. "What are you boys up to?" she asked, eyeing the batter stains on the walls and floor.

"We're making pancakes," Parker said innocently, his curls drenched in floor, eggs and milk.

"I see," she said and in that moment he could picture the mother she would be. It made him want to kiss her.

"We just got a little sidetracked," Booth said, walking over to her, Parker still on his back.

"Dad started it," Parker said.

Brennan laughed, her eyes locked on Booth's. "I'm sure he did."

Booth smiled and moved closer. He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Hey, Parks?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"Do me a favor, bud, and close your eyes for a second."

Parker eyed them suspiciously. "Are you guys gonna kiss?"

Booth smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist. "That is _exactly _what we're gonna do."

"Gross," Parker groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face against his dad's back for good measure.

Brennan reached up and wiped the batter from his cheeks and lips, before drawing his face to hers. He kissed her deep and long, pulling her tight against his batter-stained shirt. She smiled into the kiss. Tasted the flour and milk. "These are the best pancakes I've ever had," she murmured into his lips.

He smiled too. Wiped a splotch of flour from her cheek. "I am known for my cooking."

—BB—

"Hey, Parker, your mom is going to be here soon. We should head to the food court."

Parker nodded and jogged over to his dad and Bones who were waiting for him by the exit to the arcade. "She's meeting us there?" he asked.

"Yup. I just called her," Booth told him.

They walked in silence for a while. Past teenagers on their cell phones, a mother carrying a baby on one arm and half a dozen bags on the other, a father chasing after his toddler, a young couple holding hands and smiling. Without really thinking about it, Booth reached for Brennan's hand as they walked, slipping his fingers through hers. She glanced at their interlocked hands and for a second he thought she might protest, but she simply smiled and kept walking.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking."

"About what?"

Parker sighed. "Well you know how you said that me and the baby would probably have separate rooms?"

"Yeah, I remember," Booth said, looking down at his son.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe our rooms could be right next to each other so we could visit a lot. And maybe if she got scared in the night or something I could go over and make sure she was okay and check the closet for any monsters." He shrugged, looking almost shy at his confession. "I don't know. I was just thinking."

Booth smiled down at his son, feeling his love for him rising in his chest. "That sounds like a great idea, Parks."

Parker glanced up at his dad and grinned. "And maybe I could give her my old teddy bear, because I remember when I was little he protected me from the monsters under my bed."

"That would be really nice, bud."

"Hey, Parker?" Brennan suddenly asked from beside Booth.

"Yeah, Bones?"

"I noticed you keep calling the baby 'she'. Do you think it's going to be a girl?"

"I _know _it is," Parker said.

"But the sex of the fetus cannot be determined until the eighteenth week—"

"Bones," Booth said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. She glanced at him and he raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Oh," she breathed, realizing she had once again slipped into her habit of lecturing. "Sorry." She paused and turned to Parker again. "How do you know it's going to be a girl?"

Parker shrugged, unfazed by her impromptu speech. "I just know," he said mysteriously.

Brennan gave Booth a bewildered look, but he only smiled and she squelched the urge to point out that it was impossible to know such things without an ultrasound. "Are you looking forward to having a little sister?" she asked him instead.

"I think it would be cool," he replied. "I could teach her stuff. Like how to ride a bike and play baseball and football. I think it'll be fun."

"That sounds like fun," she agreed.

When they reached the cafeteria, Rebecca was sitting at a table reading a magazine. Parker immediately sprinted over to her and by the look on Rebecca's face, Booth guessed that he had already spilled the beans about the baby. He and Bones reached the table a few seconds later and much to his surprise, she didn't let go of his hand. Rebecca looked up at them and smiled. "I guess congratulations are in order," she said, looking genuinely happy for them.

"Thanks, Becca," Booth said.

"And I hear it's a girl?" she said, glancing at Parker who nodded astutely.

"Parker is sure it is, but we don't know for sure yet," Brennan explained, smiling warmly at the little boy.

"My niece was sure Parker was a boy," Rebecca said. She shrugged. "I guess some kids have a sixth sense."

"No, children have only five senses, the same as adolescents and mature adults—"

"Bones," Booth said quietly. "It's a saying. She didn't mean it literally."

"Oh," Brennan said. "I see."

Rebecca laughed good-naturedly and reached for her purse. "Well, we should get going. Parker has soccer practice."

"Right, okay," Booth said, bending down to draw his son into a quick hug. "I'll see you soon, okay, buddy?"

"Okay, dad," Parker said. He turned to Bones and wrapped his arms around her middle. "Bye, Bones." He looked up at her, his chin resting against her stomach. "Thanks for having a baby so I can get a little sister."

"It's my pleasure," she replied.

He nodded and pulled away, taking his mom's hand as they headed towards the exit. Booth watched them go, feeling the pang in his chest he always felt when he watched his son walk away. "You'll see him soon," Brennan said, sensing his sadness.

He smiled, a little forlornly, and turned towards her. "I know."

She moved closer, her lips turned down in a sympathetic frown. "You'll never have to watch our child walk away. I promise."

"I know. Thank you, Bones."

He pulled her against him and she slipped her hands inside his jacket, wrapping her arms around his waist. He rested his chin against the top of her head and closed his eyes. Breathed her in. Felt her relax against him, her body soft and warm. Felt the world fall away, replaced by the familiar calm her presence gave him.

And that's when he heard it. A jostling, the shuffling of panicked bodies. A whimper. A scream. A clear bang, loud and distinct, shattering across the silence like a bad dream. A gunshot. And everything went black.

**TBC.**


	11. I Don't Want to Die

When Booth heard the first shot, he immediately lunged forward, sweeping Brennan off her feet and slamming her into the ground. She let out a grunt as she hit the floor, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of her. Booth kept his head low. Heard the screams and the panic all around him. Prayed that Parker was safe outside.

At the second shot, Booth heard a sharp cry to his right and heard someone hit the floor. He chanced a glance across the floor and saw a man, already dead, splayed across the tiles. Brennan was rigid beneath him, her eyes wide and unfocused. He wished he could comfort her.

A third shot rang out and he heard someone laugh—a low, maniacal sound—then silence. He stayed quiet. He could feel Brennan's breath against his face, her fingers digging into his chest. "Do you have your gun?" she whispered. Her voice sounded strained.

"Of course I have my gun," he breathed.

She turned her head to the side and swept her gaze across the room. "I think they left."

Booth glanced up. "Where'd they go?"

"Maybe they bolted," she said. For some reason, he doubted that, but nodded anyway. "You should check it out."

His gaze snapped back to hers. "What? No. I'm not leaving you."

"Booth," she said, "if they're not gone, they could kill someone else. I'll be fine."

He was quiet for a second, deliberating. He knew she was right—he needed to call back up, do a sweep of the place, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her here alone. "Stay here," he said, finally. "Don't move. For anything."

Much to his surprise, she agreed almost immediately. "I won't," she said quickly. He raised his eyebrows, but definitely wasn't about to question her sudden decision to cooperate.

He got to his feet and pulled her up, ushering her over into a corner, away from the wide-open area of the food court. He noticed that her steps seemed stiff, labored almost. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, flashing him a strained smile. "You should go. I'll wait here."

He paused and studied her face, trying to gage her thoughts. Then he gave a quick nod and pulled his gun, moving off around the corner and down the hallway, out of sight.

As soon as he was gone, Brennan let out a deep sigh, pressed her back to the wall and slide to the ground with a groan. Something was wrong—she knew it was. Every time she moved, a sharp pang radiated across her abdomen. She pulled her knees to her chest and curled forward, wrapping her arms around her legs, as another pain shot through her. She tried to take deep breaths, to stay calm. She knew freaking out wouldn't help, but she couldn't help it. She was scared. More than she could ever remember being. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body going tense as she felt another stab of pain.

She was so focused on her body, on the churning in her stomach, that she didn't hear the footsteps. Didn't notice the person that walked over and stopped a few feet away from her. Didn't even look up until he said her name.

"Hello, Dr. Brennan."

—BB—

Booth moved down the hallway in quick, sure strides, his gun cocked toward the ground. The mall was dead silent. It looked like everyone had escaped. As he peered into store after deserted store, he began to wonder if maybe Brennan had been right. Maybe the perp had thrown a few shots, gotten his jollies out and bolted. It didn't fit the bill—most psychos that shot up a mall liked to hold the place up for a while, play cat and mouse with the authorities, before either running or shooting themselves. It was odd that this guy was satisfied by only one kill, no mind games whatsoever, but he wasn't going to question it. He would head back to where Brennan was waiting and send word out to the agents he had radioed that the place was secure. Then he would go home, call Rebecca to make sure Parker was safe, and curl up on the couch with Bones and a movie.

—BB—

Brennan stared at the man standing over her. He was tall and lean, with strawberry blonde hair and a crooked, snarl of a smile. She knew she should be scared, terrified for her life even, but she was too focused on the life inside her, the life she felt slipping away, to be worried about her own wellbeing.

"Dr. Brennan," the man repeated, shaking his head, grinning. "I've been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" Brennan asked. Her voice sounded shaky and soft, lacking the usual command and disregard it usually contained around criminals.

"You don't recognize me?" the man said, obviously surprised. "I thought you of all people, Dr. Brennan, would be able to recognize my face."

She narrowed her eyes slightly and ran her eyes over his features. Traced the height of his cheekbones, the line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. "Heather Taffet," she finally said. "You're her son, aren't you?"

"Bravo," the man said with a satisfied nod. "Joe Taffet, at your service."

She opened her mouth to speak, but was suddenly wracked by a searing pain in the pit of her stomach. She moaned, curling forward, and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "What's wrong with you?" Taffet said, annoyed by her lack of fear, her lack of attention.

"I think I'm having a miscarriage," she said, feeling tears spring to her eyes. She wanted Booth to come back. She wanted him to tell her it would be okay.

"Ah, yes," Taffet said. "Mother mentioned your condition. I was looking forward to killing two birds with one shot, but it seems nature is beating me to it." He sighed and glanced around, before crouching down to her level. He bent close to her strained face, so close that she could feel his hot, putrid breath against her face. "If only your boyfriend would hurry back so I could get on with the good stuff."

"How did you find me?" she asked.

He grinned. "I've been following you. Waiting for my moment. Waiting for the chance to kill you."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice cracking. She could feel the desperation closing in on her, seeping into her voice, her heart, her tears.

"You truly are brilliant, Temperance. Even I was impressed with your testimony, the evidence you conjured up. But you sent my mother to prison. I can't let that go."

"Yes you can," she breathed. "You can."

Taffet shook his head and stood up again. Paced back and forth in front of her. "No, I can't," he said, his voice loud and hard. "You took her away from me. You have to pay."

"Please, I'm pregnant. Please don't kill me. Please…" She knew it was irrational to try and sway him with emotion, to try and appeal to his humanity. She knew sociopaths operated within their own moral code, but she was finding it impossible to think straight, let alone figure out some clever way to escape.

Taffet sighed, staring down at her. "I'm disappointed, Dr. Brennan. I was looking forward to a rousing conversation, yet here you are, reduced to a puddle of hormones and emotions." He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could let me go," she said meekly, hating that she was falling apart.

He laughed and patted her head. She flinched away. "You and I both know that's never going to happen."

—BB—

Booth rounded the corner heading towards the food court, already dialing his phone. "Yes, hello, this Agent Seeley Booth. I requested backup at 529 14th street. I performed a preliminary sweep of the place and found—" His voice died away as he entered the food court.

The scene in front of him made his heart skip and stutter in his chest. There was Brennan curled up against a wall. A man stood before her, gun in hand, staring down at her terrified face. He pulled his gun. "Drop your weapon," he said. His voice was low but carried across the high-ceilinged, echoing room.

The man turned. "Ah, Agent Booth. So nice of you to join us. I was just acquainting myself with the lovely Dr. Brennan."

"Drop your weapon," Booth said again, this time louder as he began to inch closer.

Taffet sighed. "No, Agent Booth, I'm afraid you'll have to drop _your _weapon." As he spoke, he pulled a second gun from his back pocket. He pointed it at Booth while keeping the other one steady on Brennan. "Okay? Now be a good little boy and slide it on over here."

Knowing he had no other choice, Booth swallowed hard and crouched to the floor, pushing his gun towards Taffet. It skidded across the tiles and came to a stop at his feet. "Very good," he said, smiling from Brennan to Booth and back to Brennan. "Your boyfriend is very cooperative," he remarked happily.

She didn't say anything, only turned her eyes to Booth. The terror he saw in them made his stomach turn, made the rage, hot and white, climb like shiver up his spine. "Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring Taffet. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Booth," she said.

"What do you want?" Booth asked, his gaze never wavering from Brennan's.

"What do I want?" Taffet repeated. "I want revenge, Agent Booth. I want payback. I want you to watch the woman you love die. I want you to lose her like I lost my mother when _you _took her away from me."

Booth was quiet for a second. He felt something stirring in him—an image, an old photograph he had seen when he had been poring over Heather Taffet's records. "You're her son, aren't you?"

"Bingo," Taffet said. "Very well done, Agent Booth. Now if you could just come over here and take a seat, we can get on with it."

Booth did as he was told, silently making his way over to the chair Taffet pointed at with the nozzle of his gun. "You should know," he said as he sat down, "that the FBI is waiting outside. I told them to come in. They'll be here any second."

Taffet laughed. "No, they won't. They're waiting for _your _signal, which you obviously haven't given yet. If you had, they'd be here by now."

"That's not true," Booth said. "I told them to delay so I could secure the area. They're coming."

Booth watched Taffet weigh his words carefully. He could tell he was trying to gage whether or not he was telling the truth. "You're lying," he said finally.

Booth shrugged casually, even though he was feeling nothing but desperation on the inside. "Believe what you want."

Taffet chuckled and Booth glanced at Brennan, hoping she would see in his eyes what he needed her to do. Taffet caught the look between the partners, just as Booth hoped he would. "Hey, hey, none of that you two." He shook his head and let out a low whistle between his teeth. "Very badly done, Agent Booth." He turned towards Brennan. "You're a bad girl, aren't you, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan forced herself to smile. She hoped the strained curve she forced her lips into would look convincing. "Worse than you know, Joe," she murmured huskily.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, letting out a delighted laugh. "Well, I can see you're feeling better," he commented.

Brennan ignored the ache in her abdomen, the screaming fear in heart, and batted her eyelashes in what she hoped was seductive manner. "Well, hysterics didn't seem to work, so I had to try something else." She glanced up at him. "Is it working?"

Taffet grinned. Out of the corner of her eye, Brennan could see Booth pulling his phone from his pocket and opening it. "Well it certainly is much more entertaining," he conceded. "But I'm afraid it won't stop me from killing you."

"Can't blame a girl for trying," she said, as Booth began typing out a text message.

Taffet shook his head and tapped the tip of her nose with his gun. "No, certainly not." He pulled away from her with an appreciative smile and glanced over at Booth, who was just tucking his phone back in his pocket. When he caught wind of what had happened, Taffet exploded.

He lunged at Booth, shoving the gun in his face. "What did you do?" he growled at him. "What did you just do?"

Booth smiled down the barrel at Taffet's enraged face. "I gave the signal."

Taffet glared at Booth and turned around to reach for Brennan. Booth took the opportunity to charge, but Taffet was quicker. He whirled around and pulled the trigger, shooting Booth squarely in the chest. Brennan let out a strangled cry as Booth staggered backward, slumping to the ground. Taffet laughed a hoarse, wild laugh and grabbed Brennan, yanking her to her feet. He curled an arm around her throat and pressed the gun to her temple. "By my calculations I only have about thirty seconds to wrap this up. But that doesn't mean I can't still enjoy it."

Booth struggled to get up from the ground, fighting the dizziness, the nausea, that was descending like a black cloud around him. "No, please…" He crawled towards Taffet. "I love here, I love her…"

"I know," Taffet said. He cocked the gun. "That's what makes this so fun."

Booth dragged himself closer and collapsed at Taffet's feet, breathing raggedly. His blood was a dark puddle against the white tiles. "I'm sorry, Bones," he rasped. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Brennan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I love you, too."

**OK. I know that a lot of you probably just threw your computer against the wall and vowed never to read my story again. I'm sorry! I actually did not intend to end it here when I began this chapter, but it kind of happened that way. I also know that I promised a fluffy story and this chapter was nothing but angst. Sorry 'bout that. But I promise that all this drama and angst and sadness will be resolved in, like, the first two seconds of the next chapter. So don't worry. And don't be mad. Even thought I might deserve it a little…Lol. **


	12. I Want to Hold You

**I'm sorry that I took sooooo long to update this story. I'll try to never let that happen again. Oh, and some people were wondering if Joe Taffet was Heather Taffet's son or brother. Sorry about that mix up. I had originally written him as the brother, but then changed it to son and I guess I missed a couple of the switches. Whoops. I just updated a fixed version of that chapter. **

Agent Chris Grimaldi had been with the Bureau a long time. Long enough to understand things, to know things. For example, he knew that the vending machine on the twelfth floor hadn't worked since 1986. He knew that if he gave the deputy director's secretary a box of chocolates before Christmas, she'd put in a good word for him before holiday bonuses. He knew that intimidation never worked on hardcore crooks, that if he jiggled the lock on the janitor's closet he could bring home enough tissues and paper towels to last him and his wife a month, that his partner always ate a turkey sandwich for lunch when it was raining. He knew these things because he was smart, because he paid attention. And that's how he knew that Seeley Booth was a good agent and a good man. A good man who loved his girl more than his own life.

It wasn't like it was a big secret. The pair wasn't exactly subtle, even if they thought they were. Chris knew that they would've been split up a long time ago if they hadn't had the highest solve rate in the Bureau. But unlike the other agents who teased and bugged Booth about his star-struck gazes and frequent "guy hugs", Chris was kind of touched by the whole thing. He would never, ever admit it, especially not in the cutthroat environment of the break room, but he found the relationship between the partners to be kind of, well, sweet. He'd never seen anything like it, at least not in real life. The way they looked at each other was like something out of the sappy chick flicks his wife dragged him to. He would've laughed if it hadn't been so obvious how deeply in love they were. So that's why he didn't join in on the Seeley Booth roasts. He understood something that those other ass-kissing, bright-eyed babies of agents obviously didn't. He also had a woman that he would take a bullet for. Luckily for him, though, she was a schoolteacher. Not exactly a life-threatening occupation. But for Booth, the person he loved most in the world was constantly in danger. Chris honestly didn't know how the poor guy did it.

So when he saw Booth sprawled out on the floor, shot and bleeding, and Dr. Brennan standing a few feet away in the arms of a sociopath, the decision was easy. The shot came naturally. He understood what it meant to love a woman more than anything else in the world. He understood the incredible vulnerability that came with that love. He felt it everyday. Every time he looked at his wife, every time he held her while she slept. _Please don't ever die, because if you do, I won't have a reason to live. _He got it. He understood. So he thought he'd help a good man out. Save him from a life of unbearable grief.

—BB—

When Brennan opened her eyes, all she saw was white. The first thing she thought, absurdly, was that Booth had been right—there really was a heaven. But as the white blurred and refocused, she realized she was in a hospital. She blinked and tried to clear her hazy brain, organize her scrambled thoughts. She felt scared and sad, but she couldn't remember why.

Booth. She wanted Booth. She had to make sure he was okay, but she didn't know why. "Booth," she mumbled hoarsely. She turned her head to the side, half-expecting to find him sitting beside her. But he wasn't. A soundly sleeping Angela occupied the chair he should've been in. He wasn't there. And suddenly, she remembered why.

It was his hands that came back first. Taffet's arm, curled around her throat, his fingers, digging into her shoulder. Then came the gun, a dull, aching pressure against her temple. Then, as if her mind was moving in reverse, she saw Booth, collapsing at her feet. She saw him crawling across the ground. She heard the shot and saw him staggering backwards. She saw Taffet's sneering smile, Booth's strained face. His voice asking her if she was okay. She felt the pain in her stomach, the fear crawling over her skin. That first shot. She remembered that too. Before that there was Booth's arms. Parker's giggle. A pancake-batter kiss.

Now she was alone.

—BB—

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Angela asked softly, her grip firm on Brennan's hand, as the doctor bustled about beside them, setting up the ultrasound machine.

"I'm fine, Angela." She wasn't worried. She knew the baby was okay. She could feel it inside her, that deep, stirring sense of life rooted within her, somewhere elusive and out of reach. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. And for once, she wasn't going to question it.

"Okay," the doctor said, "this is just going to be a bit cold."

Brennan nodded absently. Felt the chill of the gel and the pressure of the wand as the doctor swept it across her stomach. As she waited for the heartbeat she knew would come, Brennan leaned back against the exam table and let her tired eyes fall shut. Beside her, Angela shifted nervously, her grip tightening on Brennan's hand. Brennan only smiled and let her mind drift. She thought of Booth. How he looked, how he smelled, how he tasted. How it felt when he wrapped her in his strong arms and kissed her on the mouth. And then she heard it. It was there, all around her. A loud, whooshing sound echoing through the room. Brennan lifted her head as the doctor turned the screen towards her. "There's your baby," she said, smiling.

Brennan smiled too, tears pricking her eyes, as a feeling she'd never felt before spread through her, a love so deep and so complete that it left her breathless. A baby. Their baby. It was right there and all she could think was how badly Booth would've wanted to be there with her, holding her hand, kissing her lips because he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

—BB—

Booth knew he was dreaming. It wasn't like the last time. It didn't feel real. It felt hazy and blurred. But he was happy, so he hoped he could sleep for a while.

It was morning. He knew because the air was clear and dewy. The world was just beginning to warm. Bones was in his arms. He could smell her clean, sweet smell. Hear her breaths. She was asleep, but her lips were turned up slightly like her dream was good. He was leaning forward to press a kiss to her brow, when he heard laughter coming from outside. He looked out the window and saw a little girl with brown, curly hair toddling after someone. That someone suddenly appeared in the window, swooping the girl into her arms. It was Bones. She was a mother.

He glanced back to where she had been sleeping and found his arms empty. He stood and went outside. She called out to him and walked over. The little girl in her arms reached for him and he took her. "Dada," she said, lifting her hand to his cheek.

He smiled at her and wrapped his finger around one of her curls. "You're Bee," he said softly.

The little girl giggled and made a buzzing sound. "Bubble Bee!" she cried.

He heard laughing behind him. Her laughing. "Bumble Bee," he heard her say. He grinned and turned to kiss her, but she wasn't there. She was gone and his little girl too.

When he turned back around he found himself standing above a deep pit in the ground. He could see Bones at the bottom, hovering over a skeleton. "Bones?" he called.

"It's her, Booth."

He frowned. "Who?"

She tilted her face up at him from the darkness. It was pale as the moon and loomed below him. "Your daughter."

"No." He staggered backwards. "No." He fell to the ground. _"No!"_

His cry was strangled. He felt like he was being strangled. His throat was raw. He wanted her. He wanted Bones. Where was she?

Where was _he_?

"He's waking up."

A voice—not hers—was nearby. He turned towards it. "Bones?" he tried to say, but there was no noise. He couldn't breathe.

"Agent Booth, you need to calm down. You've been intubated. You need to relax so we can remove your breathing tube."

He tried to relax. He tried to breathe. The nurse pulled the tube out and his throat ached. "Bones," he said, soft and raspy. "Where's Bones?"

"I'm sorry, I don't—"

"I'm right here, Booth."

He turned towards her voice, reaching for her, and then she was right there. Her hand was warm and soft against his forehead. He closed his eyes. "I'm right here."

"Bones," he breathed. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine," she said.

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Both of you?"

She smiled a teary smile. "Both of us."

He smiled and sank back against his pillows. He felt tired. Sleep was close by, tugging at him, pulling him in. And she was okay. She was okay now, so he could sleep. "Go back to sleep, Booth. We'll be here when you wake up."

"Both of you?" he mumbled.

"Both of us," she promised.

—BB—

Even in sleep, Booth could feel her all around him. The press of her fingers against his palm, the brush of her lips across his knuckles. Her words, soft and lilting, like a distant lullaby echoing across him. He could even smell her. She was right there beside him and he loved her and he wanted to be with her. He struggled to open his eyes. "Bones," he rasped.

Her hand was on his cheek in an instant, brushing across his jaw and up through his hair. "Booth?"

"Bones," he mumbled again. The word felt rough in his throat. He coughed and felt her fingers tighten around his hand.

"You're okay," she whispered. "I'm right here. Just open your eyes."

He was helpless to resist her request. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. He lifted his eyelids with what felt like a mighty struggle and blinked at her beautiful face. "Hey," she breathed, letting out a hoarse, relieved laugh.

"Hey," he returned and then watched helplessly as she began to cry.

She pulled away slightly, her head bowing towards her chest, as sobs wracked through her thin frame. He wanted to do something. He wanted to hold her, but his arms felt like lead at his sides. "Bones," he finally said. She looked at him, the tears sliding down her cheeks and dripping from the curve of her jaw. "C'mere." She wiped at her eyes. Took a breath that caught on a sob. "C'mere," he said again.

She finally relented, moving closer to the bed. "I want to hold you," he told her softly.

She smiled through her tears. "I don't think that's a good idea."

He sighed. It was frustrating, not being able to comfort her. "Then, just…lie down next to me."

"Booth…"

"Please, Bones," he murmured, trying his best to look pathetic—not hard considering the fact that he was hooked up to about twelve different machines.

She let out a long breath. "Fine," she relented.

She slowly eased herself onto the mattress beside him, carefully leaving a few inches of space between their bodies. "Bones," he whined, not satisfied at all.

"What?" she said. "I'm next to you."

"Come closer," he said.

She sighed again and edged closer so that he could feel the outline of her body along his arm. "Put your head on my shoulder."

"Booth."

"Bones."

One more sigh later, he felt the pressure of her head on his shoulder. He turned his face towards her. "Am I hurting you?" she asked nervously.

"No," he said quietly. "Are you okay?" She nodded, but her blue eyes still swam with unshed tears. "Baby," he breathed, "what is it? I'm going to be okay. The shot was through and through. Nicked a couple of ribs, but that's about it."

She shook her head, her breath hitching in her throat. "We almost…we almost lost it," she whispered.

His face fell, his eyes darkening as her words registered. "The baby?"

She nodded. "It's…it's okay, but we…we could've…" She squeezed her eyes shut, her body tense and trembling beside him. "Oh God, Booth."

His need to hold her was almost too much to bear. He tried to shift towards her, but stopped when a sharp pain stabbed across his chest. "Bones," he breathed raggedly. She opened her eyes and looked into his. "Kiss me," he said roughly. "Please, kiss me."

She didn't protest this time. Just lowered her head and pressed her lips firmly to his. He could taste the salt of her tears as he parted his lips, slanting his mouth over hers in a soft, easy kiss that made him forget, if only for an instant, how close they'd come to losing everything. By the time she pulled away, bowing her head away from his, her tears had stopped, her body relaxing into his. "Better?" he murmured.

She glanced up at him, the ghost of a smile stirring in her eyes. "Much."

He smiled up into her face. "I hate not being able to hold you."

"I know." She smiled. "I have something for you."

"What is it?" he asked curiously as she rolled off the bed and began rummaging through her purse.

"Well," she said turning back to him, "there's this."

She handed him small, black and white photo. He held it gently between his fingers, studying the grainy image carefully. When he realized what it was, he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Is this…?"

"Our baby," she said, nodding.

"She's beautiful," he breathed.

"She?"

He nodded, glancing up at her face. "I had a dream," he explained. "We lived in a beautiful house with a big backyard and we had a little girl named Bee."

"Bee?" she repeated. "I like that."

"She looked just like you," he told her. "So beautiful."

She smiled, her head bowing forward, and he thought he saw a hint of a blush blooming in her cheeks, but he couldn't be sure because she was turned away again, bent over her purse. She came up with her cell phone this time and turned towards him grinning. "Ready?" she asked.

"For what?" he said, feeling himself smile just because she was.

"Just listen."

She pressed a button on her phone and the room was suddenly filled with steady, rhythmic whooshing sound. He recognized it immediately and felt tears fill his eyes. "God, Bones," he breathed.

"Isn't it amazing?"

He nodded. "It's perfect."

She smiled and placed her phone on the table beside his bed, before easing herself back onto the bed beside him. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Rested her head against his shoulder. "A little girl," she said quietly, wonderingly.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Our little Bee."

**Squee! I love them so much! And didn't I promise I would resolve the angst? **

**So guess what today is! It is the day that is three days before the day that Bones premieres! Haha. I feel like that sentence was way more complicated that it needed to be. LOL. But seriously! Three days, you guys. I think you should all celebrate this glorious news by pressing the review button below! **


	13. I Worry About You

**Here's another chapter for ya'll. This one takes place about a week and a half after the last one and is a lot less angsty. **

Booth watched from his perch on the bed as Brennan shimmied out of her work clothes and reached for a simple, black cocktail dress. "Bones, are you sure you have to go?"

"I scheduled this reading months ago," she told him as she unzipped the dress and stepped into it.

He sighed and stood from the bed, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, his hands settling protectively over her stomach. "You should be taking it easy, babe," he said softly, kissing his way from her shoulder up to her neck.

She leaned back into his touch, her eyes sliding shut. "I've been on bed rest for a week and a half, Booth. I'm going a little crazy. And anyway," she said, turning in his arms and looping her arms around his neck. "You're the one that got shot."

"I don't follow your logic," he said, distracted by the feel of her body against his.

"Well," she said helpfully, leaning onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, "logically speaking, getting shot is a much more serious injury. I should be worried about _you_, not the other way around."

"I'm not worried about you," he said, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "I'm worried about the baby."

She leaned away from him, feigning shock. "That wasn't very nice," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You are so not getting sex ever again," she declared, grinning winningly at his shocked face.

"What?" he cried, as she swiveled away from him, headed towards the bathroom. "That's not fair!"

"Oh, so now I'm suddenly important?" she questioned, her tone indignant. She turned towards him, arms crossed over her chest, a no-nonsense, yet completely adorable, glare on her face.

"You're very important to me," he told her, smiling softly. "You know that."

Her expression softened as the conversation turned from playful to serious. She did know. There were two scars on his chest to prove it. She walked over to him and let him pull her back into his arms. "You're important to me, too," she told him.

He kissed her gently, his arms resting lightly around her waist. "Take it easy tonight, okay?"

"Booth," she said, giving him a look, "It's a reading. I talk and sign books. All while sitting, I might add. I think I can handle it."

"I know," he said, kissing her again. "I just worry about you."

"You mean the baby," she corrected, her tone light.

"No, Bones," he insisted, suddenly needing her to know. "You. I worry about you."

She sighed and leaned into him for a moment. "I wish you wouldn't," she told him quietly.

He shrugged and kissed her. "I can't help it."

—BB—

It was close to ten o'clock when Booth slipped into the Barnes & Noble and followed the signs to the reading by "best-selling author, Dr. Temperance Brennan". He spotted her immediately, sitting behind a table at the head of a line that seemed to stretch clear across the store. He watched as a teenage girl, fifteen or sixteen he would've guessed, handed her a book, her eyes wide with wonder. She said something that made Brennan smile and nod and a second later, the girl produced a camera from her purse and leaned across the table, snapping a shot of her and Bones.

Booth smiled to himself and found a seat off to the side, content to simply watch Brennan as she interacted easily with her adoring fans. He knew she'd be furious when she realized he'd left the apartment and the bed that he was supposed to be resting in for a few more days, but he could honestly care less. He felt fine. His chest barely even hurt anymore. Hanging out in a bookstore probably wouldn't kill him.

Booth watched with varying levels of interest as admirer after admirer filed past his partner. Most of them were harmless housewives or hero-worshipping teenagers. There was one guy, though, that made Booth tense slightly in his seat. He lingered a little too long and leaned a little too close for Booth's comfort. After a while, Brennan asked him to please move on. The man smiled this smile that made Booth want to take the guy out, but then he moved away, cradling his newly signed book like it was the freakin' baby Jesus. When he passed the spot where Booth was sitting, he stood, blocking the guy's exit.

"Hey, what's your problem?" the guy demanded, tensing slightly at Booth's stern glare and intimidating stance.

"You better watch it," Booth said darkly, giving the guy a quick flash of his badge.

The guy's eyes widened. He glanced up at Booth nervously. "Whoa, dude, calm down. Just a fan here."

Booth leaned towards the guy, his broad form dwarfing the nervous fan's skinny frame. "If you ever give her a hard time again…"

"Her FBI body guard'll take me out," the guy supplied, lifting his hands in surrender. "Got it."

Booth tensed towards the guy, his fist clenched at his side, but then stepped aside to let him move by. He scurried away, making a beeline for the nearest exit, and Booth relaxed, sinking back down in his seat. He looked towards Brennan who had apparently missed his little and felt some of the tension drain out of him.

He'd been going a little crazy the last few days. He always worried about her, but his protective instincts—what Brennan called his "alpha male tendencies"—had been flaring up big time since her near miscarriage. He worried when she was out of sight and it was taking all of his will power not hover, just because he knew it pissed her off and the doctors had been clear that she needed to try and stay calm for a while. But his little interlude with Brennan's overbearing fan had helped to ease some of his backlogged, alpha male instincts. Plus, it was a total win-win, considering the fact that Brennan hadn't even noticed.

He grinned and leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes drift shut as the seemingly endless line of Bones wannabes filed past. When he opened them again, it was close to eleven and the crowd, thankfully, seemed to be dwindling. Booth turned towards Brennan and immediately recognized the telltale signs of exhaustion in her face. He stood quickly and crossed to her, moving behind the table. "Hey, Booth," she said easily, apparently not at all surprised at his sudden presence next her.

"Hey, babe," he said softly, ducking his head to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

"It'll probably only be another hour," she told him, scribbling an almost illegible signature inside a woman's book.

"An hour?" he repeated. "No way, Bones. You need to rest."

"Booth, I can't just leave whenever I want," she informed him, taking another book and scribbling away. "I have to stay till midnight. It's in the contract."

Booth sighed and moved around so that he was facing her, sitting lightly on the edge of the table, his back to the crowd. "Bones," he said softly. "You're tired. I can tell. You need to take it easy."

She paused in her mad scrawling long enough to look at him. "Who's going to ask all these people to leave?" she said.

The fact that she'd barely put up a fight told him just how fried she was. "I will," he said quickly, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just slip out that side door. I'll meet you in the car."

"Really?" she said doubtfully. He nodded and she stood, pressing a light kiss to his lips before making her way towards the exit. Booth grinned at her retreating form and turned towards her slightly shocked, slightly annoyed fans.

"Bad news," he announced. "Dr. Brennan is not feeling well and had to leave. Sorry for any inconvenience."

And with that, he followed the path of Brennan's hasty retreat, jogging out the door and into the parking lot where he found her waiting in his car, already half-asleep in the passenger's seat.

—BB—

By the time Booth pulled up to her apartment building, Brennan was snoring softly. He undid his seat belt and got out of the car, walking around to her side and opening the door. She opened her eyes and blinked at him sleepily. "We home?" she murmured.

"Yup, we're home," he told her, easing her from out of the car and slipping an arm around her waist.

She leaned against him heavily as he led her inside and onto the elevator. An elderly couple already on board shifted to one side to make room for them. The woman smiled warmly at the partners, while the man gave Booth an approving wink as Brennan melted into him, her arms around his waist, her head on his chest.

"Bones, you can't fall asleep on the elevator," Booth said gently, even as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her snug against his body.

"Wake me up when we get there," she mumbled.

"Um, Bones?" he said a moment later. "We're here." The doors slid open, but Brennan made no move to step off. "Bones?" Booth said again, but was answered only with an incoherent mumble into his chest. The elderly couple looked on, clearly amused, as Booth bent down and scooped Brennan into his arms, carrying her off the elevator. "Have a good night," he called over his shoulder.

"You too!" came the reply as the elevator slid shut and continued its ascent.

Booth was halfway down the hallway when Brennan woke up enough to realize that she was being carried. "Booth!" she cried, suddenly wide awake and tense in his arms. "You shouldn't be carrying me! You could strain yourself or reopen the stitches or—"

"Bones, Booth interrupted gently. "You weigh like two pounds. I'm not going to strain anything. Just relax."

She fixed him with a stubborn glare, but stopped her feeble attempts to get out of his arms. When they reached her door, Brennan took the key from her pocket and slipped it into the door, all while still cradled in Booth's arms. He carried her inside and took her into the bedroom where he immediately deposited her on the bed. "Hey, Bones," he said as he lay down beside her. "Did you see what just happened?"

She frowned, confused. "You took off your shoes and got into bed with me."

"No, before that," he said, grinning.

"What?"

"I just carried you over the threshold." He chuckled happily and leaned close to her, brushing his lips over hers in a quiet kiss. "It's almost like we're married."

"Except we're not," she pointed out.

He smiled indulgently and let it go, even though a part of him wanted to push the topic a little further. She leaned into him and he wrapped her in his arms, his hands going to her back to unzip her dress. "Sit up, Bones," he commanded softly. She complied and he pulled the garment over her head, letting out a strained groan as he took in her lacy bra and skimpy panties and the flawless, smooth skin between.

"Booth?" she asked curiously, fighting the urge to moan as he dipped his head and brushed his lips against the op of one breast, then the other. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"Maybe," he murmured, unhooking her bra and immediately peppering her newly exposed breasts with kisses.

"We can't…" Her words trailed off into a moan as he took her sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. "We can't have sex."

"I know," he murmured, switching his attention to her other breast.

"You're driving me crazy," she said, but the words came out on a pleasure-drenched sigh as his tongue flicked across her nipple.

"I know," he breathed smugly.

"Please, please stop," she panted, forcing the request from her lips even though every fiber of her being wanted him to continue.

He complied with a soft sigh, removing his mouth from her soft skin and gathering her to his chest, pulling her against his body so she could feel just how much he wanted her, just how crazy she drove _him_. "How many days?" he asked.

"Just a few for me but, Booth, you really need to take it easy. You were shot."

"And I'm healing," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'm fine, Bones."

"You can't strain yourself, Booth," she said, turning her worried eyes up to meet his.

"I know, babe. Don't worry." He smiled and ran his hand down her side, feeling goose bumps rise in the wake of his fingers. "But just because I can't have sex, Bones, doesn't mean I can't make you feel good."

And he did. He did want to make her feel good. He could see how close she was to coming undone right now and he was still fully clothed and barely touching her. He'd seen the descent of the hormones when Rebecca had been pregnant with Parker. She'd shown up at his apartment in the middle of the night a few times and practically jumped him. Now he could see a similar process happening with Bones and he hated not being able to ease some of that ache.

"God, Booth, I'm so horny," she admitted and he would've laughed if it hadn't been so obvious how serious she was, if those frustrated tears hadn't been gleaming in her eyes.

"I know, babe," he said softly, pulling her closer.

She let out a long breath and shifted against him, trying to ease the ache, but only succeeded in making it worse. With a frustrated sigh she rolled away from him, off the bed, and grabbed some pajamas from her dresser. She pulled them on quickly and returned to the bed, easing down next to him. "I saw you, you know," she told him, resting her head against his chest.

"Where?" he asked.

"At the reading," she said. "I saw you threaten that man."

"You did?" he said, surprised that she hadn't called him on it sooner.

"Yup."

He paused and angled his head so that he could catch a glimpse of her face. "You're not mad?"

She smiled and shrugged. "No," she said easily. "That guy's been pestering me for a while."

"He has?" Booth said, feeling a tinge of alarm flare inside him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it doesn't matter," she said. "But I'm glad you were there tonight. You rid me of my little annoyance and I'm grateful."

He grinned, his voice dropping to deep, husky whisper. "How grateful?" he asked, just because he couldn't _not _go there.

"Booth," she warned.

"Sorry," he said immediately, kissing the top of her head. "No sex talk."

"Ugh," she groaned. "Why'd you have to say 'sex'? Now I'm thinking about it again."

"Sorry," he said. "I will absolutely stop talking about sex. I'll even stop thinking about it."

"Thank you," she said .

He was quiet for about two seconds before saying, "You know what I'll especially stop thinking about? Those tiny, black panties you're wearing right now. And how good it would feel if I stroked you through that paper-thin lace. And how good you'd taste if I—"

"Booth!"

Her strangled cry cut him off. He glanced down at her flushed face. Felt her wriggle against him slightly, her thigh coming to rest between his legs, rubbing just enough to get his blood boiling. "Okay, Bones," he murmured, closing his eyes against the pleasure, against how could she smelled and how good she felt in his arms. "Point taken."

"Thank you," she said, snuggling into him. "Now go to sleep," she ordered.

"That is so not going to happen," he told her.

"What can I say?" she said happily. "I think the saying is, 'What goes around comes around.' Is that colloquialism correct, Booth?"

"Yeah," he said. "That pretty much sums it up."

**Hehe. I just couldn't help but riffing on that long-time pregnancy cliché that women get horny during pregnancy. The possibilities were just way too amusing. Lol. As always, please review!**


	14. I Blame the Hormones

Booth stared at the woman dozing beside him and grinned. She'd woken him up before the alarm for the third day in a row, her hands already pushing his t-shirt up over his head, her thigh pressing impatiently between his legs. Now, an hour later, she was drifting off again, her peaceful face the picture of satisfaction. She was lying on her back and he was lying on his side beside her, propped up on his elbow.

As she drifted deeper into sleep, her breath evening out, a soft sigh escaping her lips, he ran his fingers across her stomach, tracing lazy patterns over the smooth skin. At three and a half months, she'd just barely begun to show, her slightly swollen belly still undetectable when she was wearing clothes.

Booth remembered Rebecca hitting this mark and having a meltdown when she couldn't fit into her favorite pair of jeans. Bones wasn't like that. The other day, when she realized she couldn't button a pair of pants, she'd simply shrugged and tossed them aside, opting for a dress instead. He'd followed her into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands settling across her stomach. "You okay?" he'd whispered into her neck, pressing a line of kisses up to the spot behind her ear.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she'd replied and turned in his arms, kissing him deep and full on the mouth.

"No reason," he'd murmured and let her pull him back into the bedroom.

Now, as he watched her sleeping peacefully, his gaze running appreciatively over her beautiful body, he had the urge to wake her up, but he resisted. Instead, he bent his head over her stomach and pressed a kiss to her belly button. He trailed his lips upwards. Pressed them to the underside of her breast, her collarbone, her neck and, finally, her lips. She sighed and cracked one eye open. "Sleepy," she mumbled, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

"I want you again," he confessed.

She laughed softly and pushed him back against the sheets, before rolling on top of him and straddling his stomach. "_I'm _supposed to be the one with the raging hormones," she informed him.

"I can't help it," he told her, his eyes dark and filled with conviction as he gazed up at her. "You're too beautiful."

"Too beautiful?"

"Mm-hm," he hummed, nodding. "I can't resist you."

She grinned wickedly. "Good to know."

He let out a soft chuckle that trailed off into a groan as she bent over him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, her hair falling in a curtain around his face. She shifted down his body and the kiss deepened and suddenly he was inside her. She moaned softly, arching into him, and he lifted his hands to her breasts, weighing them gently in his hands. "Booth," she sighed.

He rolled them to their sides and crushed her to him, pulling her tight against his broad chest. She let out an appreciative hum, her head falling back to allow him better access as he pressed a line of kisses from the hollow of her throat to her jaw. She rocked against him, her leg locked across his hip, and after only a few seconds, he could feel her tighten around him.

He ran his hands all over her body. Pressed his lips to her forehead and cheek and lips, until he felt her shudder against him, his name a cry on his lips. Then he let himself go, unraveling in her arms.

She nestled close to him, not wanting to lose the feel of his body against hers, the security of his arms. He pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her hair as she rested her head on his chest. "You can't go back to sleep, babe," he told her softly. "We have to be at work soon."

"No," she groaned, turning her face into his chest. "I'm too tired."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"I blame you."

"Me? You're the one who woke me up at four thirty demanding sex."

"Hormones," she said dismissively. "You should've talked me out of it."

"You do realize I'm a guy, right? We, as a group, refuse sex, like, never."

She grinned and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Plus I'm too beautiful, right?"

He nodded. "Exactly. I was helpless to resist, even if I wanted to. Which I didn't. At all."

Her grin widened and she rolled on top of him. "Let's be late for work."

He nodded. "I agree."

—BB—

Angela appeared in Brennan's doorway just a couple minutes after she got to work. "You're late," Angela accused, grinning knowingly.

Brennan shrugged, but was helpless to hold in her own smile. "Just a little."

"Early morning delight?" Angela asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"If you're implying that Booth and I engaged in sexual intercourse this morning, then you'd be correct," she informed her friend matter-of-factly. "And, yes, it was very delightful."

"Gosh, I envy you. You have the sex life of a twenty-year-old. And when I say a twenty-year-old, I mean me, in college, having sex in the library with Corey Blume." Angela let out a wistful sigh, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. "Ah, to be young again."

"You should talk to Hodgins," Brennan suggested. "I'm sure he'd be very eager to satisfy your biological urges."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'd be all over that, but I want something more, you know? I'm not satisfied by sex in the L section anymore. I want what you and Booth have. What Hodgins and I _used _to have."

"An early morning delight?"

"No, sweetie," she said, laughing. "A relationship. A partner. That deep, sweet, intimate, fleeting…_thing._"

Brennan was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. "I'm probably the last person on earth that should be giving relationship advice, but I feel that, in this situation, I have something useful to offer."

"Please, tell me," Angela all but begged. "I'm kind of desperate."

Brennan stood from her desk and made her way over to the couch, taking a seat beside Angela. "Booth does this thing sometimes where he watches me performing normal, everyday tasks, like putting on lipstick or washing the dishes. I noticed recently and asked him why he does it and he told me that I make reality beautiful." She paused and cast an uncertain glance at Angela, who suddenly seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I can't be sure, but I think he means that his love for me, makes everything I do beautiful. Do you think that's an accurate assessment?"

Angela nodded, swiping a wayward tear from the corner of her eye. "That's very accurate, sweetie, but what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, I recently noticed that Hodgins does the same thing with you."

"Really?" Angela mumbled, looking slightly taken aback.

Brennan nodded. "Especially when you paint. I've seen him stand in your doorway and watch you paint for an hour at a time."

"I didn't…I've never seen him."

"You're very focused when you paint, Ange."

She nodded and smiled, a little sheepishly. "I get lost in it."

"I think that's what he finds beautiful—you're singular concentration, you're carefulness, you're dedication to even the smallest of details."

"Have you been watching me, too?" Angela asked.

Brennan smiled, shaking her head. "I'm very observant, Ange."

"Yeah, I guess you are."

—BB—

Booth was in a meeting with a couple of junior agents when he glanced up and saw Brennan standing outside his office. He immediately waved her in. She pushed open the door and walked over to his desk, bending down to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Hey, babe," he said softly, standing up and kissing her forehead just because he loved her and he could.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting," she said, casting a glance back at the agents, who were staring at her, a little wide-eyed. "Why do they look like that?" she whispered, her brow furrowing in confusion at the agents' apparent awe at her presence.

Booth shrugged, even though he knew full well why they looked like that. She had a long history of leaving guys in her wake, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, and moving on, completely oblivious to the fact that she was heart-stoppingly gorgeous. "Agent Adams, Agent Brooks, this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan," he said.

The agents seemed to snap back to reality at the introduction and immediately stood to offer their hands. "Big fan," Brooks said, grinning hugely, as Bones took his hand.

"You've read my books?" she asked.

"Um, yeah, sure," he said.

Beside him, Adams snorted. "Smooth," he muttered.

Brennan frowned slightly, but didn't comment, and turned back to Booth, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Can we have lunch?" she asked, sidling up to him and slipping her arms around his waist.

"Lunch?" he repeated dumbly, completely distracted by the fact that she was pressed up against him, her hands snaking under her jacket.

She nodded and leaned close. Whispered _lunch_ in his ear like it was a secret.

He swallowed. Hard. "Um, Adams, Brooks, would you please excuse us?"

"But, sir, we still need to go over the—"

Booth tore his eyes away from Brennan long enough to level them with a stern glare. "Agents," he said darkly.

"Oh, um, right…yes, sir. We'll leave you to it," Brooks fumbled, moving quickly towards the door. "Enjoy lunch!" he called and Booth didn't miss the fact that the comment was directed more towards his partner's ass than him.

As soon as they were gone, Booth leaned forward and kissed her deeply. "You're evil," he accused.

"I'm horny," she returned, making him want to laugh and groan at the same time.

"I only have an hour before I have to be back," he said, his lips brushing along her jaw, his hand working their way under the hem of her blouse.

"That's plenty of time," she murmured, already breathless and impatient, and still entirely clothed.

"Babe," he groaned. "We're in my office."

"So?" she breathed roughly.

"Bones, you're killing me."

She didn't give an answer besides a noncommittal hum against his neck. She had somehow managed to untuck his shirt without him noticing and was now running her hands along his lower back. He groaned softly at the unexpected touch and crushed her to him, running his tongue along her lower lips before thrusting it in her mouth. She rocked onto her toes for better access, making her breasts ache as they slid up his chest.

"Oh my, God," he breathed, finally forcing himself to pull away before someone walked in on them. She looked up at him knowingly, her hands still moving across his bare back. "Come with me," he ordered suddenly, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of his office.

They rushed onto the elevator, which was mercifully empty and as soon as the doors slid shut, he lifted her in his arms and pushed her against the back wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and returned his desperate kisses, her fingers already making quick time with the buttons of his shirt. "Just hold on one second, babe," he breathed between kisses, praying she'd wait until they were in his car before stripping him completely.

On the second floor the elevator stopped unexpectedly, and Booth barely had enough time to lower Brennan to the floor and make an attempt at straightening his shirt before Hacker strode on, grinning. "Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," he greeted them, eyeing their disheveled appearance but not commenting. "Having lunch?" he asked, smirking.

"Yup," Booth said. "Lunch."

"Right," he said.

The elevator doors dinged open as they reached the lobby and Hacker walked off. "Have a good time you two," he said. "Oh, and Booth?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You have lipstick all over your face."

The doors slid shut before Booth could answer and opened only a moment later on the garage. Brennan, giggling at the mortification painted all over his face, grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the car. "C'mon," she urged. "We only have forty-five minutes."

"Do you know who that was, Bones?"

"Andrew Hacker," she said like it was obvious.

"Right, Bones, my _boss_, who just caught me making out in the elevator like some hormone-crazed teenager."

"Angela says we have the sex life of twenty-year-olds," she informed him as they reached the car.

"Is that a compliment?" he asked.

"According to her it is," she replied.

He smiled approvingly and climbed into the driver's seat, before pulling her in on top of him. "Let's prove her right, shall we?" he suggested and swung the door shut.

—BB—

When Angela spotted Brennan returning from lunch, grinning from ear to ear, she immediately abandoned her computer and rushed over to her friend. "Afternoon delight?" she guessed. Brennan only smiled at her friend before sinking into her chair with a happy sigh. "Oh, God, sweetie, you're killing me here."

"Why am I killing you?"

"Because I haven't had sex since I broke up with Wendell and here you are oozing satisfaction with a hunky, FBI guy to call up for a nice round of sex during your lunch break and I'm…" She trailed off with a sigh and wandered over to the couch. "Do you know what I did during my lunch break? I sat in the cafeteria eating a sandwich, _alone,_ and then on my way back to the office I stopped in the bathroom, looked in the mirror and realized that the whole time I'd had a giant chunk of egg salad on my sweater that I hadn't noticed." She looked at her friend imploringly. "Isn't that tragic?"

"I wouldn't call it tragic," Brennan replied, judicious as always. "Maybe a little pathetic."

"Oh, well that makes me feel so much better. Thanks, sweetie."

"Really?" Brennan asked doubtfully. "You feel better? Because I would describe your expression as more frustrated than happy."

"That's because I am frustrated!" Angela cried, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands.

"I'm confused," Brennan said slowly. "You just said you feel better."

"It's called sarcasm, sweetie," Angela said patiently.

"Booth says that I recognize sarcasm about as well as a rock, which I'm assuming means I can't recognize it at all, since rocks aren't sentient."

"Right," Angela said softly, distractedly.

Seeing her friend's sadness—something she could always sense—she stood up from her desk and joined her on the couch. She wrapped her arm around her and Angela, surprised yet comforted by the unexpected gesture, leaned her head on Brennan's shoulder. "Ange, I'm sorry you're unhappy. I was unhappy for a long time. But then I found Booth and I'm…" She trailed off, her bright eyes and soft smile conveying more than her unfinished sentence ever could.

Angela returned the smile, though hers was a little sadder. "I know, sweetie. And I'm so happy for you. I don't want you to feel guilty for being happy just because I'm not."

"Thanks, Ange," Brennan said. "And remember what I said about Hodgins."

"I know."

"Don't do what I did. Don't run from an all-consuming love just because you're scared of drowning in it."

Angela shot her a wry smile. "I thought you hated psychology."

"I blame the hormones for my sudden turn to the soft sciences," she explained, as if the same revelation had worried her as well. "They seem to make me extremely irrational at times."

—BB—

"Bones, what has gotten into you?"

It was just past ten o'clock. Booth had come to pick up Brennan from her office. He had found her sitting at her desk, working diligently, but within moments of stepping through the door, she had abandoned her work and had practically accosted him before he could even say hello. "Hormones," she said quickly, her recently adopted, catch-all explanation for everything irrational.

"Can't you wait till we get home?" he asked as she dragged him over to the couch and pushed him back against the cushions.

"No one's here, Booth," she said, unbuttoning her blouse and dropping it to the floor.

Booth let out a heartfelt groan at the sight of her. The rosy pink flush blooming in her cheeks, her disheveled hair recently released from its tie and now her breasts, practically spilling out of the lacy black bra he'd had the privilege of seeing her put on that morning. "God, Bones," he sighed, his tongue unconsciously darting out to wet his lips as she unzipped her pants and let them join her blouse on the floor.

"Too beautiful?" she asked, walking over to the couch and straddling his lap.

"Way too beautiful," he agreed, immediately undoing the front clasp on her bra and pressing his lips to each of her breasts.

"You have way too many clothes on," she declared and immediately went to work rectifying the situation.

She loosened his tie with one swift tug and pulled it off, then made quick time with the buttons on his shirt, pushing the garment from his shoulders. He grabbed her hands when they reached for the button on his pants and undid it himself instead, before easing her off his lap long enough to slip out of his pants and boxers.

When he turned back towards her, he found she'd discarded her own panties as well. He quickly sat back down on the cushions, groaning softly when she swung her leg back over his lap and hovered over him, filling him with the smell and sight of her. "You sure no one's here?" he breathed raggedly, running his hands down her back and over her ass.

"Positive," she assured him and lowered herself slightly, feeling the tip of him slide into her.

"Bones," he murmured roughly, his hands tightening around her waist.

She slid down another inch and closed her eyes as a shock of pleasure radiated through her. "Oh, God," she moaned. "Booth."

"C'mon, babe," he coaxed, pressing a kiss to her lips, urging her forward with his hands.

She slid down another inch, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, then another and another. When he was completely inside her, she stilled in his arms, her eyes intent on his face. She ran her hands over his shoulders and the smooth muscles of his chest and stomach. Let the darkness, the quiet, how _right _it felt to be in his arms sweep through her. When she finally began to move, it was slow and deliberate. She rocked against him slowly, felt his lips against her skin and closed her eyes to the sensations. The pleasure built slowly and steadily and he never stopped kissing her, never stopped holding her. He waited until the last tremors radiated through her body before he let himself go, his arms tightening around her as he shattered.

Afterward, as they lay on the couch, bodies intertwined under her old throw blanket he kissed her and asked, "Are you happy?"

She knew he already knew the answer, but she understood his need to hear her say it. "I'm happy, Booth," she promised. "I'm happier than I ever thought possible."

He smiled and kissed her nose. "I'm happy, too," he told her. "You make me happy."

She smiled up at him and kissed him softly, before resting her head against his chest. He watched her eyes drift shut, felt her body relax into him, and knew she was falling asleep. He considered telling her they had to get home, but she looked so content that he decided against it.

The lab was dark and peaceful and they were warm under their blanket. He closed his eyes and drifted off, his arms wrapped securely around the woman he loved, the woman who made him happier than he could ever say.

**They are sooooo cute! Well, this version is. The one on the show…eh.**

**I'm sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. I have to be in a special kind of mood to write this story and I haven't been there for a while. Plus, my fluff muse has decided to retire to Florida and leave me in the lurch. So that's a bummer. **

**How about this: I'll promise to try and be more regular about my updates if you promise to leave some awesometastic comments. Deal? **


	15. I Wouldn't Miss This for the World

**Hey, everybody. I'm back. Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. I've actually been working on it for for**_**ever**_**, but just couldn't quite finish it up. But it's finally done, and I hope ya'll enjoy it!**

"Um, sweetie?"

Brennan opened her eyes and was met with the grinning, highly amused, face of her best friend. "Angela?"

Her first thought was to wonder what her friend was doing in her bedroom. Then she wondered why her bedroom looked like her office. Then she remembered what had happened and felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "I guess we fell asleep," she mumbled sheepishly.

"I know you're horny and everything, honey, but even this seems a little over the top," Angela mused, tugging the blanket that was draped over their bodies so it covered more skin. "I think you scarred Larry for life."

Brennan frowned. "Larry?"

"The night guard. He was the one who alerted me to the situation in here. I think he's the only one who knows, though." Angela smiled and glanced over her shoulder to where Larry was standing outside the door. "He stood guard until I got here."

Brennan didn't know whether to be mortified or grateful. "That was…kind of him," she said uncertainly.

"Wake up Booth and put some clothes on, Bren," Angela instructed, moving towards the door. "And send Larry a thank you card while you're at it."

As soon as her friend disappeared around the corner, Brennan turned towards Booth and woke him up with a sound kiss on the lips. "Mmm," he hummed, tugging her towards him and pressing his lips to her neck. "Morning, babe."

"Morning," she said, feeling her original objective of getting dressed slip from her mind as his lips descended to the hollow of her throat and the tops of her breasts. "Booth," she sighed distractedly.

"Hm?" he mumbled, rolling them over so she was tucked under his body.

"Clothes," she breathed between kissed. "We need clothes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we're in my office."

He pulled away from her. "What?"

She smiled up at his horrified face. "We fell asleep."

"Oh, my God," he groaned. "This is bad, Bones."

"It's fine," she told him. "Larry's keeping guard."

"Larry?" he asked, rolling from the couch and gathering up their clothes.

"Angela arranged it."

"Angela?" he cried, his voice coming out high and squeaky with embarrassment. "Has the whole lab seen us naked?"

Brennan sighed at him. "Just get dressed."

They managed to pull on their clothes in a couple minutes and emerged from her office a moment later looking semi-decent. They were heading towards the platform when they ran into Cam. "Good morning, Dr. Brennan," she greeted the anthropologist, before glancing at her blushing companion. "You're here early, Booth," she commented.

"Yeah, I was, uh, just dropping Bones off," he explained hastily. "I'm off to work now." He gave Brennan quick kiss on the lips, flashed a smile at Cam and disappeared.

"That was weird," Cam said, following his hasty escape. She turned to Brennan. "Did he seem weird to you?"

Brennan shrugged and dropped her eyes to the floor. "Not particularly," she muttered, before moving away towards the platform.

Cam watched her go, her frown deepening. "Weird."

—BB—

Booth strode into the Jeffersonian after a nice, relaxing, criminal-free day at the Hoover, looking forward to taking Bones out to dinner. He spotted Angela on the platform, sketchpad in hand, staring intently at a skull in front of. "Hey, Ange!" he called, swiping his card and jogging up the steps. "Have you seen Bones?"

As soon as the artist spotted him, she put down her sketchpad and walked over to him. The somberness of her face made his smile fade. "She left."

Booth frowned. "What? What do you mean she left?" Bones _never _left the lab early. He usually had to drag her kicking and screaming away from her skeletons.

Angela's frown was deep too. He could see the concern painted all over her face. "A couple hours ago."

"What?" he said as the worry grew to fear. "Why? What happened?"

Angela shook her head. "I don't really know. She was sitting in her office for most of the afternoon. She was reading something…a letter, I think. Then she just disappeared. She didn't tell anyone where she was going."

Booth was already turning away, already wracking his brain for where she could've gone. "I have to go," he murmured.

"Call me when you find her!"

—BB—

He went to the cemetery first. Remembering that day a couple months ago, during the gravedigger trial, he thought he might find her sitting by her mother's grave. But she wasn't there. She wasn't at the diner, at the Founding Fathers, at the apartment. He knew she wasn't at the lab. Realizing he was running out of ideas, he turned off the road and put his car in park. He sighed and slammed his hands against the steering wheel with a frustrated groan.

He told himself not to worry. He told himself that she was safe somewhere and that she'd call as soon as she was ready. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get images of serial killers and sociopaths and hardened criminals out of his head. Maybe it was the cop in him or the alpha male or the father, but he couldn't escape this sense of nagging worry. He couldn't make himself be rational. All he knew was that the woman he loved, the woman who was carrying his baby, was nowhere to be found and all he could think about was finding her and holding her and making sure she was okay, no matter how irrational it was.

—BB—

"Honey, I think you need to call Booth."

She shook her head immediately. "I can't, dad. If I hear his voice…" She trailed off, staring aimlessly into her cup of tea. "I just can't."

Max nodded understandingly. "Okay," he said gently, running his hand across her back in soothing circles. "Listen, why don't you go lie down for a while. You can rest while I start dinner. Sound good?"

She nodded wordlessly, gratefully, and stood, moving down the hallway into the bedroom. She pulled back the covers on the freshly made bed and sank onto the mattress. The sheets smelled like her dad and she suddenly remembered all those nights when she'd crawled into bed between her parents because some sound or shadow had scared her. She remembered her mother's arms around her, her little-girl hand resting against her father's shoulder. She remembered that feeling of absolute security that came when they were near. There was only one other person in the world who gave her that feeling and she wished suddenly, desperately, that he was lying there next to her.

—BB—

Booth was just getting back into his car after checking her apartment for the third time when his phone rang. He picked it up immediately. "Bones?"

"Booth, it's Max."

"Is she there?" he asked, his voice urgent and rushed.

"She's here. And she's okay."

Booth let out a long breath of relief. "Thank God."

Max was quiet for a moment as if deliberating something. "Listen, son, she told me not to call you, but I can tell she needs you."

"I'm already on my way."

—BB—

Booth barely got a chance to knock before Max swung open the door. He strode inside, gave the older man a firm, thankful handshake, and said, "Where is she?"

Max pointed down the hall and Booth moved away, pausing outside the bedroom door. He knocked softly and, when he was met with silence, pushed it open. Brennan was asleep on the bed, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other draped across her stomach. Booth slipped out of his shoes and coat, lifted the covers, and eased himself onto the mattress behind her, curling his body around hers. She shifted in his arms and opened her eyes. "You came," she whispered.

He nodded against her neck. She felt his hand slide along her waist and over the curve of her hip, before moving to her stomach. She felt his palm settle over the slight swell, warm and comforting and protective. "What happened, babe?" he asked softly.

"I got a letter," she told him. "I was appointed to head a dig on the Maluku islands. Bone fragments were discovered that are believed to be early human. This find, Booth…" She trailed off and he felt her lean back against him more heavily. "This find could change the very nature of what it means to be human and I…"

"And you want to go," he supplied softly. She nodded. "But you can't, because you're pregnant." She nodded again. "And you feel like you're losing yourself, losing the very things that used to define you."

It was amazing how he could do that—read her inner soul like it was a banner printed across her forehead. "Yes," she confirmed.

"You're still you, Bones," he murmured into her ear. "Still just as brilliant and beautiful and passionate as ever. Still a world-renowned anthropologist and a best-selling author, but you're something else now too. You're a mother, Bones. And it's changing you."

"For the better?" she whispered, even though she already knew the answer.

"Only for the better," he promised.

She was quiet for a long time then. He slipped his hand underneath her shirt and ran his large palm across the warm skin of her belly. He pressed lazy kisses to her neck and shoulder. Nestled closer until she could feel the solid plane of his chest against her back. She let the security descend over her, let him run his hands across her body until the confliction she'd felt only moments ago was replaced by calm and quiet, by the solid reassurance of his arms. "I'm sorry I ran away," she finally told him.

"It's okay, babe," he assured her, "but please don't scare me like that again."

"I won't."

"Just talk to me, okay?"

She nodded and turned in his arms. "Okay," she said and kissed him softly. "I'm happy that I'm having your baby; you know that, right?"

He nodded. "I know, Bones."

"And I'm happy to be with you," she continued, her voice soft and sure. "I'm happy to share my life with you. But…" Her gaze drifted away from his face and her eyes were suddenly uncertain. "I was alone for so long, Booth, and I got used to it. There was no one that depended on me. There was no one that was affected by my decisions. My life was just mine. And today, when I got that letter, it suddenly hit me how much my life has changed and it…" She lifted her eyes to his face. "It scared me."

He didn't respond right away. Moments passed and his gaze was steady on her face, his arms tight around her body. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the smooth skin at her temple. "It's okay to be scared, Bones," he murmured.

"You're not mad?" she asked and her face was so uncertain that it made him ache.

"Of course not," he told her.

She nodded and he watched as the apprehension faded from her eyes. She snuggled closer to him, pressing her face into his chest and inhaling his clean, heady scent, the scent that never failed to make her feel safe. "Thanks, Booth," she whispered.

He smiled down at the top of her head. "You're welcome."

—BB—

"Are you making stir fry?" Brennan asked when she and Booth emerged from the bedroom and made their way into the kitchen.

Max glanced at them over his shoulder and smiled. "Yup."

"I have been craving that a lot lately," she told him, wandering over to the stove and peering into the pan filled with simmering vegetables.

"I figured," Max said with a grin.

Brennan glanced at him, frowning. "What? How were you able to figure something like that? There are far too many variables."

"It was all your mother would eat when she was pregnant," her dad explained, walking over to adjust the heat under the vegetables.

"Really?" she breathed, her throat tightening suddenly.

She turned towards Booth and his eyes widened slightly, when he saw the tears shining in her eyes. He moved closer immediately. "Bones, baby—are you crying?" he asked.

She nodded, a little sheepishly, and leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It seems my amygdala and lacrimal gland have become even more closely linked since I got pregnant."

"Okay, I have no idea what that means," Booth told her, gathering her to his chest.

"It means she's emotional," Max explained, keeping his back to the couple in silent recognition of their private moment.

"Oh, well, that's normal isn't it?"

Brennan nodded and tilted her head up to meet his eye. "I know it's irrational, but I suddenly feel…close to her."

"Your mother?" Booth asked gently.

"Yes."

Booth felt his chest swell almost painfully at her admission and he couldn't help but press a gentle kiss to her lips despite the fact that her father was only a few feet away. "I love you," he whispered into her ear.

She smiled. "I love you, too."

—BB—

Booth looked at the beautiful woman drowsing beside him. She'd just drifted off a moment ago. He'd barely had time to coax her into an old t-shirt and pull the covers over her sleepy body before she fell asleep. He ran his hand along her arm and over the slight swell of her stomach, debating on whether or not to wake her up.

After a moment of deliberation, he leaned towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Hey, Bones?" he murmured and watched her eyelids flutter at his voice.

"Yeah?" she breathed, turning towards him automatically.

He wrapped his arm around her as she pressed her face into his chest, her hand coming up to curl around the fabric of his t-shirt. "I, um…I have to tell you something," he told her. He glanced down at her face and found that her eyelids had drifted shut again. "Bones?"

"I'm listening," she promised, forcing her eyes open and meeting his gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I just…I wasn't going to tell you, but I thought that, after today…"

"Booth?" she murmured. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just…" He sighed and glanced down at her. "I got a letter, too."

"From who?" she asked.

He swallowed. "From the military."

He felt her tense in his arms, felt her fingers curl tighter around his shirt. "They…they want you to go back?" she asked, her voice soft and faltering.

"Yes," he said. "They offered me a promotion and asked if I would be willing to pass on my sniper training to new recruits."

"Oh," she said, feeling a strange unease take up resident in her chest. "Are you…are you going?"

"No." His answer was immediate. She looked up at him and found him smiling. "Of course not, Bones."

She let out a breath. "Do you…want to go?"

"No," he said and his voice was lower now, fiercer. "I want to be here with you and with Parker. My life is here." He paused for a minute. His gaze drifted from her face to the ceiling. "I remember being over there, Bones, and listening to all these guys talk about their wives and kids back home. A couple missed the birth of their children. I can still remember them sitting there, clutching the photo of their baby in their hands. They would weep, Bones. Grown men, weeping because they were missing _so much_. Baseball games and recitals and graduations."

He turned towards her again and found her watching him, her gaze dark and understanding. "I swore I would never be that guy. The guy who missed everything."

"You're not that guy, Booth," she said, low and fervent. "You're a _good _father. You're a _good_ man."

"Thank you, Bones," he murmured. "And you don't have to worry about anything. I could never leave you." He kissed her gently and placed his hand over her stomach. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

**Cuteness! Review please!**


	16. I'm the Wife

**Okay, this really is pure fluff. Just sayin'. Not a plot line in sight, people.**

Brennan woke up to hands, _his _hands, running across her body. She hummed softly in appreciation, but kept her eyes closed. Stretched languidly under his touch. Arched forward when his fingers slid up the inside of her thigh.

"Morning, Bones," he murmured huskily and she could suddenly feel the light pressure of his body against hers. He pressed his thigh between her legs, resting one hand on either side of her shoulders for balance as he hovered over her.

He kissed her and she parted her lips, moaning softly at the slide of his tongue against hers. She tasted peppermint and a hint of coffee underneath and she wondered how long he'd been awake. But then his lips shifted from her mouth to her neck and all thoughts faded from her mind. She sighed softly and ran her hands over his shoulders to his neck, pressing lightly in an attempt to direct his attention lower. He didn't need much encouragement and a moment later she felt the warm wetness of his mouth against her breast.

"Ah…Booth…" Her voice was soft and low and _so _sexy.

He glanced up at her face and smiled at the sight: eyes closed, mouth parted in pleasure. He shifted his attention to her other breast and she arched into his body with a soft cry. A lot of the books he'd been reading had mentioned "nipple sensitivity" and how pregnant women often didn't like to have their breasts touched. Bones did not share in that sentiment and all he had to say about that was _Thank God_. Bones had always had great breasts—gorgeous and full and sexy—but ever since she got pregnant…holy hell. She looked positively _ripe_ and the fact that she was looking this way because of him was probably the biggest turn on he'd ever experienced.

As he continued his ministrations, alternately swirling around her nipple and pressing the flat of his tongue against the sensitive peak, her breathing began to quicken, her hips rotating against his thigh. He was just beginning to wonder if she could come just from this when she tensed in his arms, her fingers tangling in his hair, her breath hitching in her throat. "Booth," she sighed as a deep shudder ran through her. "_Holy shit._"

She let out a long breath as her heart rate slowed again, as her body relaxed, turning soft and languid in his hands. She opened her eyes and blinked down at him, looking sleepy and _quite_ satisfied if he did say so himself. He shifted up her body slightly so his face was directly above hers and smiled down at her. "I can't believe I reached orgasm just from…that."

His smile grew into a cocky grin. "What can I say, Bones? When you're good, you're good."

She just smiled sleepily and didn't begrudge him the ego trip. "Thank you, Booth," she sighed happily.

"No problem, babe," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Believe me, I enjoyed it too."

She smiled. "Oh, you did, huh?"

He nodded. "You're gorgeous when you come, Bones," he told her sincerely. "And you're _so _sexy it's ridiculous. I get turned on just looking at you sometimes."

"I'm not as thin as I used to be," she said thoughtfully. "You're okay with that?"

"Are you kidding me?" he said. "You've never been more beautiful to me, Bones."

"Anthropologically speaking, that makes sense. Impregnating your mate is seen as the highest symbol of prowess in many tribes. Men who are impotent are often looked down upon, even shunned at times."

Booth smiled the way he always did when she went off on one of her squint rants—indulgently, lovingly. "You know, Bones, I never thought I'd say this, but I gotta agree with you on this one."

"Really?" she asked, grinning at him triumphantly.

"Yeah," he said. "When a guy gets his girl pregnant he feels…unstoppable. Powerful." He paused and smiled. "Maybe a little cocky, too."

"Just a little?" she teased.

"Okay, a lot," he amended. "But the point is, _you _have never been more sexy. You're practically glowing, Bones. And all the changes happening to your body…they're beautiful. _You're_ beautiful."

He leaned down to kiss her and she parted her thighs, letting his hips settle against hers. He groaned softly as slipped inside her, pressing deep. "God, Bones," he breathed. "You feel so good."

She only smiled and pulled his lips back down to hers, feeling her body begin to warm and tighten as he moved inside her. And when he lifted his head and met her eye, for one fleeting moment, she could see what he saw. The woman he loved. The mother of his child. The most beautiful thing in the world.

—BB—

Booth strode into the lab and jogged up the steps to the platform where the whole team was gathered over a skeleton. "Alrighty, Bones," he announced. "It's time for lunch!"

She glanced towards him and gave him an annoyed look. "I'm busy, Booth," she informed him. "And anyway, you said you were coming at noon."

"Uh, Dr. Brennan?" Nigel-Murray spoke up hesitantly. "It's 11:58."

She shot her intern a look, before turning back to the skeleton. "So I have two minutes."

"C'mon, Bones, aren't you _hungry?"_ Booth wheedled from his spot behind her shoulder. "Just think about those French fries. And the milkshakes. And the um…" He trailed off, trying to remember what the current craving-of-the-week was. "Oh!" he cried triumphantly as it came to him. "The peanut butter and pickle sandwiches! Doesn't that sound delicious?"

Angela smirked. "Got a bit of a salt craving there, Bren?"

Brennan sighed. "It's probably just an indication of a slight electrolyte deficiency," she muttered.

"Um…yeah, whatever, babe," Booth said dismissively. He reached over and grabbed the bone she was examining and placed it back on the table.

"Hey, Booth! You're compromising the remains—"

"You're skeleton will live," he said, placing his hands on her hips and steering her off the platform.

"He is deceased, Booth," she informed him, but didn't fight it as he led her away.

Booth chuckled. "Really laying on the literal there, huh, Bones?"

"You said he'd live," she told him. "He won't."

"Yeah, I think I got that."

She sighed and wiggled out of his grasp. Turned towards him and pressed a hand to his chest, effectively halting his charge to the door. "Booth," she said softly. "I don't like it when you pull me away from my work."

He smiled and moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her into his body. "Yes, you do, Bones," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips.

"No, I don't think I do," she insisted, even as she relaxed against him, her mouth warm and soft beneath his.

"Yes, you do," he said again. "You know why?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Enlighten me," she invited.

"Because it means there is someone in this world who cares about you enough to make sure you eat lunch."

"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "I see." She smiled and kissed him again. "Would that someone be _you_ by any chance?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"Because you love me," she said.

"Always."

—BB—

"I'll have a hamburger, cooked medium-well, with a side of fries," Booth said, handing the waitress his menu. She nodded, scribbling down his order before turning to Brennan.

"I'll have a peanut butter and pickle sandwich," she said, "a chocolate milkshake, and an order of fries."

The waitress barely blinked at her ridiculous order. They'd gotten used to her outrageous cravings. "Hungry there, Bones?" Booth asked as the waitress hurried away to place their orders.

"Yes," she said. "I'm starving."

She reached for her water and took a sip, before lifting her gaze to his face. He was grinning at her and she found herself smiling back automatically. "Why are you smiling like that?" she asked.

He shrugged, suddenly wishing there wasn't a table between them so he could wrap his arm around her and kiss her. "I don't know," he said, still grinning. "It's just…I love you so much."

Her face softened at his words. "Booth…"

"Look, Bones, I know I've been laying it on pretty heavy today and I don't want to freak you out or anything, but every time I look at you I just…I feel so _full, _you know? Like if I don't tell you how I feel I might explode." He smiled at her and reached across the table, grabbing her hands and folding them in his own. "It's just…I want you to know how perfect you are to me. I want to say it everyday, because you're perfect everyday. Okay?"

She was quiet for a minute, her gaze steady on his face. "You do tell me, Booth. You tell me all the time." She smiled softly at him, but it quickly faded from her face. "I know that I might seem…scared or quiet after you tell me things like that. I know I should say something back, but sometimes I just…"

She trailed off and her gaze fell away from his face to the table. "I'm not used to it," she admitted quietly. "I'm still not used to being loved the way you love me. And sometimes I feel overwhelmed. That's all."

He nodded. "I understand."

"But don't…" She glanced at him, then glanced away. "Don't stop, okay?"

For a minute he was confused. But then she looked at him and he wasn't confused anymore. "I'll never stop telling you how perfect you are, Bones, because you'll never stop being perfect to me."

He waited for her to say that there was no way he could know such a thing, that there was no way he could know how he'd feel in thirty or forty or fifty years, but she didn't say it. She just smiled and leaned forward to press a light kiss to his lips. "Hey, Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"You're…" She trailed off, the hint of a blush blooming in her cheeks. "You're perfect to me, too," she told him, this shy tint to her voice that made him love her that much more.

He grinned, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. "Glad to hear it, Bones. Glad to hear it."

—BB—

"So, Bones, do you think you're going to be able to stop by tonight?"

Brennan glanced up from her computer screen towards where Booth was standing in the doorway, hockey bag in hand. "I don't know, Booth. I'm supposed to finish this chapter by the end of the week and I haven't really started—"

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly, but she thought she saw disappointment flash across his face. "There'll be plenty more hockey games."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, walking over and pressing a kiss to her lips. "I'll be home later, okay?"

She nodded and pulled him down for one more kiss. "Have fun," she told him.

He grinned at her over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner. A moment later, she heard the front door shut. She turned back to her screen and tried to focus on the chapter she was supposed to be writing. But instead, she found herself reaching for her cell phone and dialing Angela's number.

"I feel guilty," Brennan said as soon as she answered.

"Well, hello to you too, sweetie."

Brennan rolled her eyes at her friend's cheeky response. "Angela, I'm being serious. I feel guilty and _intellectually_, I know I shouldn't. I mean, he said it was okay and I really do have to finish this chapter—"

"Whoa, whoa," Angela interrupted. "Slow down there, Bren. Why exactly are you feeling guilty?"

"I told Booth I couldn't go to his hockey game."

"Ah," Angela said knowingly. "I see."

"What? What do you see?"

"Nothing, sweetie, it's just an expression. I just meant I understand why you feel guilty."

"But I _shouldn't_ feel guilty," Brennan insisted. "I have a lot of work to do and it's not like this is the only hockey game Booth will play in."

"But you know how much Booth loves hockey and you know how much it would mean to him if you came and you don't want to let him down. "

"So you think I should go?"

"I think you _want _to go, so, yes, I think you should."

"I do enjoy watching him play sports. He's very…"

"Hot? Manly? Mouth-wateringly-sexy?" Angela supplied.

"All of the above, I suppose," Brennan agreed.

"Booth is the kind of guy who loves to show off for his girl. He wants you to come see him play so he can show you he's the best, so you can be proud of him."

"I am proud of him."

"I know, sweetie, but why don't you just indulge Booth and his adorable little alpha-male tendencies or whatever you call them. Beside, he'll look hot in all that gear, slamming guys against walls, being all manly and stuff."

"It is very appealing," Brennan conceded. She was quiet for a minute. "I guess you're right. I'll go."

"Of course I'm right," Angela replied indignantly. "Now go cheer for your man."

—BB—

Brennan got there in the middle of the third period. The seats were mostly empty. There were a couple of women—wives, girlfriends maybe, who seemed more interested in the magazines in their laps than in the game. There were a few kids running around and a couple of sulking teenagers bent over cell phones. Seated closest to the rink was a group of six or seven, twenty-something women. They caught Brennan's eye because of their choice of outfits: high heels, mini-skirts and skimpy tank tops, all of which were highly unsuitable for the chilly air in the rink.

None of the women seemed tied to a specific player, but whenever someone skated past, they'd all hoot and holler and make lewd gestures. A couple of them found it necessary to press their bodies against the wall surrounding the ice so that their boobs were squished firmly to the glass partition, providing a nice little show for the skaters.

Almost all of the guys at least took a peek as they skated past, all except Booth that is, a fact that made an inexplicable warm-and-tingly take up residence in Brennan's chest.

As soon as the game ended, Brennan made her way towards the gate that the players exited out of and stood waiting for Booth. When he first emerged, he didn't see her, and before she could call out to him, a couple of the underdressed girls made their way over.

"Hi, Seeley," one of them purred, leaning towards Booth with a sly smile.

"Hey there, Chandra," Booth said, meeting her eye (not her cleavage).

"Great game," another one said, pushing past Chandra to wrap an arm around his wait. "You looked _so_ good out there."

"Uh, thanks," he replied, polite as ever, before moving out of her reach. "But I really should be going."

"No," Chandra wined. "Come have a drink with us, Boothy."

Brennan didn't know whether to snicker or grimace. _Boothy?_

"Sorry, ladies," Booth said. "But I have to get home."

"Why? Did your little wifey set a curfew for little Boothy?"

Booth continued smiling, but now Brennan could see annoyance, if not anger, brewing in his gaze. "No," he said. "No curfew. When you're as kind and loving and wonderful as she is with, not to mention, a body _to die for_, there's no need for curfews. I'd pick her over a couple of beers with a couple of puck bunnies any day of the week."

"Whatever," Chandra huffed. "Have fun with your ball and chain."

"Oh, I will," Booth assured, before turning away with a grin and an amused shake of his head.

"Boothy? Really?"

Booth turned towards the sound of her voice and immediately grinned. "Bones!" he said happily, walking over and kissing her soundly on the lips. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd come cheer for my man," Brennan said, feeling that now-familiar, warm-and-tingly feeling permeate through her at his obvious joy in seeing her.

"I'm glad you did," he said, kissing her again. "And ignore the Boothy thing. Girls that have nothing better to do than hit on government officials who play in a local hockey league are not worth the jealousy."

"Hey, I'd hit on you," she said indignantly. "And I _wasn't_ jealous."

"Of course you weren't," Booth said, smiling. "You're far too rational for that."

"I did find that I was inordinately pleased by your hasty rebuff of their overtures, but no—definitely not jealous."

"Aw, Bones," he said affectionately. "You know I only have eyes for you."

She smiled and leaned into him again. Found his lips and tasted that familiar Booth taste that always made her heart rate climb. He dropped his helmet and stick on the floor so that he could wrap both arms around her waist and deepened the kiss, parting her lips and delving deep with his tongue.

At first, she found the pressure of his hockey pads against her breasts stimulating and kind of sexy, but she soon grew impatient for the feel of his body against hers. "How long will it take you to change?" she asked.

"Five minutes," he promised breathlessly. "Give me _five minutes_."

She nodded and watched him hurry away, before sinking down onto the bleachers with a contented sigh.

"So. You're the _wife?_"

Brennan turned towards the unexpected voice and found Chandra regarding her disdainfully from a few feet away. She thought about correcting her with the no-we're-only-partners line, but for some reason decided against it. She wanted to lay claim to Booth, show this woman that he was hers in a way that even she couldn't explain. The only way she could think to do that was by agreeing with her.

"Yep," she confirmed with a satisfied grin. "I'm the wife."

—BB—

"Booth, I have to confess something."

They were lying in bed in a post-coital haze of sleepiness. She was on her side and he was behind her, his chest pressed to her back, his hand stroking lazily over the soft skin of her stomach.

"What's up, Bones?" he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck and shoulder.

"Tonight, at the rink, I told one of those puck bunnies that I was your wife."

"Oh, yeah?" Booth said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

She nodded. "Yeah. Well, technically, she assumed I was your wife and I did nothing to set her straight, but the sentiment's the same."

"Why'd you do that?" he asked softly.

She sighed, snuggling back against him. "I don't know…I just wanted her to know that we were, you know, together. Not just friends, not just lovers, not just partners, but…_us._ And I realized that to everyone besides us, the closest equivalent is husband and wife."

"It's true, Bones," he agreed, not wanting to push it, but feeling his chest swell with hope anyway.

"I don't want to get married," she specified, as if he thought she'd changed her mind.

"I know, Bones," he said softly. "I know."

**Fluff galore. You know you love it, right? So review!**


	17. I Am Better Because of You

They were at a crime scene the first time it happened. A guy had moved into a new house, decided he didn't like the cod pond in the backyard, but found a little more than weeds and mud at the bottom when he drained it.

After arriving on the scene, Brennan immediately climbed down into the muddy pit to begin examining the body while Booth talked to the horrified homeowner. Booth was just about to ask the guy when he'd moved in when he heard Bones gasp behind him. He turned immediately, leaping into the pit and hurrying to her side.

"Bones? Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, eyeing the way she held her hands over her stomach, her eyes wide. "Bones?" he said again when she didn't answer. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

"I'm…I'm fine, Booth," she said. "I just…I think I just experienced quickening."

"Quickening?" For a split second, Booth was uncomprehending. "Wait. You mean…you felt the baby move?"

"Yes," she said. "What else could 'quickening' be referring to?"

"Alright, alright," Booth said, feeling himself relax. "I thought you were having a miscarriage or something. Give a guy a break, would you?"

"I'm sorry, I was just…oh." She trailed off, her face breaking into a grin. "This really is quite an amazing feeling, Booth."

He smiled and rested his hand next to hers on her stomach. "How long till I'll be able to feel it?" he asked, unable to keep the tinge of jealousy from his voice.

"Maybe another month," she said and then gasped and laughed out loud when she felt it again.

Booth sighed and wrapped his arm around her waist, forgetting for an instant that they were at a crime scene, standing four feet form a decaying body. "This isn't fair, Bones! I want to feel it too!"

She gave him a look bordering on exasperation, but in the next instant kissed him, a loving smile gracing her lips. "Booth," she said patiently—he loved how she sounded like a mother—"don't be ridiculous. You'll be able to feel it soon."

He nodded, moving his large palm across her stomach. "What's it like?" he asked curiously.

She was quiet for a minute, her head tilted to the side in thought. "It's like…it's like butterflies," she said finally. "It feels like there is a butterfly batting its wings in my stomach."

"Wow, Bones, that's pretty poetic."

She rolled her eyes. "I am a writer, Booth. I'd like to think I can come up with a decent simile when the need arises."

—BB—

She was in the bone room the next time it happened. Wendell, the intern for the week, turned to her in surprise when she let out an audible gasp, her hand flying to her stomach. "Dr. Brennan?" he asked, looking slightly alarmed. "Is everything okay?

"Yes," she said, a little breathlessly. "I'm just…I'm just not quite used to that yet."

"To what?"

"Feeling the baby move," she explained. Her voice had returned to its normal, matter-of-fact tone, but the brightness in her eyes betrayed her excitement. "It's really quite something."

"That's really cool," her intern commented, eyeing her stomach interestedly. "I mean…there's actually a _baby_ in there."

"Yes, Mr. Bray, there is," she confirmed, giving him a strange look.

"No, I just mean…I mean, I _knew _there was a baby in there, it's just you don't really _think _about it until, you know, it…announces itself."

Brennan stood staring at her intern, feeling the same way she did when Booth went off on one of his metaphorical, theoretical, highfalutin rants about love or religion. "I don't really understand what you just said," she murmured slowly, "but I think we should get back to the case now."

Wendell nodded quickly, feeling the color rise in his cheeks. "Um, yeah, that sounds good, Dr. Brennan."

—BB—

At lunchtime, Brennan headed over to the Hoover building and found Booth in his office, looking through some paperwork on his desk. "Hey," she said from the doorway.

He looked up at the sound of her voice and grinned broadly. "Hey, Bones," he said happily. "C'mere."

He held out his hand and she walked over and took it, frowning slightly when he pulled her onto his lap, his arms settling comfortably around her waist. "I'm pretty sure this is unprofessional," she said, even as she leaned in and kissed him softly.

"It's lunchtime. Almost everyone's gone."

"Mmm," she hummed, kissing him again. "Okay."

They went on like that for a few more minutes. He kissed her slowly and sensually, his arms secure around her waist, her hands resting gently on his chest. Recently, Brennan felt like all it took to get her aroused was one kiss, one touch, one look, even. But this kiss was different. It was deep and loving and comforting. The feel of his mouth was sweet, the taste of his tongue familiar and she just let herself melt into him, losing herself in the intoxicating feeling of security and safety he gave her.

When they finally pulled apart, she gave him a sweet, lazy smile and rested her head against his shoulder. "This is nice," she murmured.

"It is," he agreed, running his hand across her back in soft, sure strokes. "It says in one of the books I'm reading that it's important to stay intimate with your partner throughout the course of the pregnancy."

"I don't think we have a problem with intimacy, Booth," she said with a soft giggle that made him smile.

"I don't just mean sex, Bones," he said. "I mean hugging, too, and cuddling and rubbing your back and…"

"Holding me on your lap while you kiss me?"

He smiled. "Yeah, that too."

"Well, I agree with that book."

"You do?"

"Yeah," she said, a tinge of shyness to her voice. "I like cuddling."

He chuckled softly and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Me too, Bones. Me too."

—BB—

The third time it happened, they were eating dinner at the diner. This time when she felt it, like the flutter of a bird's wing beneath her ribs, she just put down her fork and grinned, resting her hand on her stomach. Booth glanced up at her and smiled, even though he was still a little envious that she could feel it and he still couldn't. "Is it happening again?"

She nodded and giggled a little when she felt it again, stronger this time. "I think it likes the sound of your voice," she murmured.

"Really?" he said excitedly. "You think so?"

She looked up at his ecstatic face and couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. The flutter's a little stronger after you talk."

He grinned and stood from his chair, taking a seat beside her so that he could rest his hand on her stomach. "Hey, baby," he crooned softly, bent close to her abdomen. "It's your dad. I heard you like the sound of my voice so I'm here to deliver."

Her laugh, spurred on by his adorable antics, turned to throaty and soft with wonder when she felt it move again. "I felt it," she breathed. "Keep talking."

"Okay," he said, feeling his jealousy fade. _We've got a daddy's girl on our hands,_ he thought happily. "I can't wait to meet you, baby," he murmured. "I can't wait to hold you in my arms and comfort you when you cry and change your diapers and—"

"You can't wait to change her diaper?" she interrupted, her voice incredulous.

"It's part of the job, Bones. And I love every part of being a dad."

"I'm sure no one would blame you if you didn't like changing diapers."

"Bones," he said, all seriousness. "Parker gave me a mug last year for Father's Day that says _#1 Dad_, and I take my title very seriously."

She smiled down at him, feeling giddy and giggly and completely, irrationally happy. "I love you," she said suddenly, the words coming out in a rush of emotion.

He lifted his head and looked at her, taken off guard by the sudden admission. Normally, he was the one who said it, and only occasionally would she say it back. He didn't mind—he knew the words cost her more than they cost him. "I love you, too, Bones," he murmured softly, pressing his lips to her forehead and her lips. "So much."

—BB—

It was close to ten o'clock when Booth heard the knock on the door. He glanced to his right and grinned at the sight of an unconscious Bones, sprawled out on the sheets beside him. At 9:15, she'd gotten into bed, determined to finish a chapter of her latest novel, and by 9:25, was out like a light, her laptop resting beside her.

Being careful not to disturb her (not that she'd wake up even if a heard of elephants stormed through the bedroom), Booth slipped out of the bed and walked into the living room. He swung open the door and found his brother, extremely drunk and extremely disheveled, leaning against the doorjamb. "Hey, big bro," he slurred.

"Christ, Jared," Booth muttered. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," he grumbled, trying to stand upright, finding he couldn't and grabbing the doorjamb to keep from falling over. "Padme's a bitch. That's all. It's nothing." He closed his eyes, swayed slightly, held on to the doorjamb a little tighter. "Fuck, I'm dizzy." He opened his eyes. "Aren't you gonna invite me in?"

"Jared," Booth said, his voice betraying the anger that was boiling through his veins. "You're fucking _drunk_. What happened?"

"It was nothing…I just had a couple drinks and she was like…_so pissed._" He let out a resigned sigh that faded into a humorless laugh. "She kicked me out. Can you believe that? She kicked me out. She…she kicked me…fucking bitch…"

He trailed off and began to fall forward. Booth automatically reached out to steady him, grabbing his shoulders and steering him inside and onto the couch. "Stay there," he ordered, even though it didn't look like Jared could go anywhere even if he wanted to. He slumped back against the cushions, limp and dizzy in his haze of alcohol.

Bones was still sound asleep when he returned to the bedroom. He considered just letting her sleep, but didn't want her to freak out if she woke up and heard someone moving around in her living room in the middle of the night.

He crouched beside the bed and reached out to brush the hair from her eyes in a whisper soft caress. "Bones, baby," he murmured. "Can you wake up for a second?"

She opened her eyes, blinking sleepily at home. "What's wrong?" she asked, immediately seeing the worry in his eyes even though she was still half-asleep.

"Jared's here," he explained. "He's drunk."

Her eyes darkened immediately. "I'm sorry, Booth."

"Yeah, me too," he breathed, feeling suddenly hopeless. For an instant, he let the fear and anger overwhelm him, knowing she wouldn't hold it against him. "God, I really thought he was better. I really thought he'd stopped. I mean after almost losing his job and falling in love…I thought he was different. I thought he'd be different than him."

"Jared isn't like your father," she murmured softly. "He's troubled and lost, but he's not cruel."

Booth nodded, letting out a sigh. "I know. But I've seen first hand the way booze can leach the kindness right out of a man."

She reached out and rested her hand against her cheek, so gentle, so sweet. Her face was sad as she looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Booth," she said again and he wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up next to her and sleep forever and forget about the brother that was slipping through his fingers.

"I should go out there," he said regretfully.

She nodded. "Okay."

He leaned in and kissed her. "You're amazing, you know that?"

She smiled. "I try."

—BB—

Booth walked back into the living room and gave Jared an unceremonious shove as he passed by the couch on his way to the armchair. Jared sat up abruptly, muttering under his breath, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

"When'd Padme kick you out?" Booth asked gruffly.

Jared blinked at him a couple of times, struggling to process the simple question. "Two…two weeks ago."

"Christ, Jared," Booth sighed, leaning back in the chair, turning his eyes heavenward. "How long?" he asked quietly, still looking at the ceiling instead of the sad excuse for a man sitting across from him.

"How long what?" Jared echoed, feeling surly and tired.

"Drinking, Jared," Booth said, his eyes snapping to meet his little brother's. "How long have you been _drinking_."

Jared shrugged, a tinge of shame penetrating his drunken state. "I don't know…"

"You do," Booth snapped.

Jared met his eye. "A month."

Booth was silent for a minute, his gaze steady on Jared's face. "Fuck," he breathed, leaning back again. "Fuck."

"Look, bro, it's fine. I have it under control, okay?"

"Oh, God, shut up. Please, just…shut up." He let out a long breath, his fingers digging into the armrest. "You don't have it under control. You've never had anything under control. Your whole life has been one, big mess, Jared. And then you met a woman who for God knows what reason seemed to really love you. And you fucked that up, too."

"I know that!" Jared burst out, his voice suddenly clearer, his gaze suddenly sharp and bright and haunted. "Don't you think I know what I've lost?"

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

"I-I don't know what I'm doing," he breathed tiredly. "I feel like I've lost everything. I feel like I've lost all the things that were keeping me sober. And I…I don't even know how it happened. It was one drink, _one drink_. Just hanging with the guys after work, laughing, having a good time, but I…I couldn't stop." He let out a long breath and leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands. "I lost control, Seel. I lost control and I lost my job and I lost Padme. I don't have anything left."

Booth was quiet for a long time, a war of emotions swelling in his chest. When he finally spoke, his voice soft and steady. "You have me," he murmured. "You still have me and…" He trailed off, a slight smile gracing his lips. "Bones and I…we're having a baby. I'm going to be a father again and I'd really like this baby to know her uncle. But that will never happen if you are a drunk, Jared. I won't let you near her if you don't get your act together. Okay?"

Jared nodded. He looked at Booth then looked away. He leaned back, his eyes suddenly glazing over again. Booth knew that the alcohol had pulled him back in even before he opened his mouth. "You gonna marry her?" he asked, his voice low.

Booth kept his jaw firm, his gaze steady on his brother's face. "No," he said.

"Wow, Seeley, congratulations" he scoffed. "So that's two girls now who you've knocked up and that've refused to marry you."

"Jared," Booth said, his voice low and filled with a warning. "Stop it."

"Another bastard Booth," he continued. "I've never been prouder, big brother."

Booth stood up so abruptly that the chair he'd been sitting in tilted backward, clattering to the floor. "You do not get to judge me," he breathed, leaning close—close enough to smell the scotch on his little brother's breath. "You're the one sitting on _my _couch, loveless, jobless and drunk. You do _not _get to judge me."

Jared was silent and still, his body rigid. Then, all at once, the fight drained out of him. Booth watched his face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry," he chocked out. "I'm so sorry, Seeley."

In an instant, Booth went from barely controlled anger to pity. He watched as his brother fell apart before his eyes, folding in on himself, his entire body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. He stood up and backed away from the couch, feeling his chest ache, feeling his own tears rise. "Get some sleep, Jared," he said. "I'll see you in the morning."

—BB—

When Booth returned to the bedroom, he found Brennan sitting up in bed, wide-awake, her brow furrowed with worry. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, she stood from the bed and wrapped her arms around him. "You okay?" she breathed into his ear.

He nodded, holding her tight. "Now I am."

She smiled softly and pulled back, taking his hand and leading him back to the bed. He lay down first and she quickly followed suit, curling into his body, resting her head on his chest. They lapsed into silence. He ran his hand along her side, from her shoulder to her waist and hip and back again. She felt the need to say something, to break the silence, but she was scared of saying the wrong thing, so she simply lay in his arms, her fingers tracing absent patterns across his chest.

"I don't want to lose him," he said suddenly, his voice rough and soft, the way it always got when he was scared.

"You won't," she assured him softly.

"How do you know?" he asked, turning dark, uncertain eyes to her face.

"Because he came to you," she said simply. "He knew you wouldn't let him slip away."

"You think?"

She nodded, feeling confident in her rationale. "I do."

He smiled softly. Leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "You're my reason," he breathed into her hair.

"What?" she asked.

He pulled back slightly and looked into her beautiful face. "You're my reason for staying clean," he told her simply. "That night at the bar, the first time we kissed…I went home, because of you. I didn't go back inside and gamble, because of you. That somewhere that I promised…it gave me hope, Bones. It gave me something to believe in and I didn't want to ruin it."

She was silent in the face of his words, words more powerful and meaningful than any _I love you_ could ever be. "Booth," she breathed, her voice quiet and wondering. "I had no idea."

He grinned down at her. "How could you not know that you're my angel, Bones?" he asked, half teasing, half…not. "You make me a better man. Loving you makes me a better man."

"You were a good man even before you met me," she pointed out.

He smiled and turned towards her, pushing her back against the mattress and rolling on top of her so that she was tucked under his body. "Maybe," he said lightly, walking that strange line between self-deprecation and cockiness. "But your love is what makes me great."

She grinned up into his kind, handsome face. "That's pretty corny, Booth, even for you."

He shrugged and leaned down, trailing a line of kissing from her collarbone to her lips. "Doesn't mean it's not true."

**So, the truth is, I hadn't planned on making that scene with Jared so long, but I kind of got into the groove of it and liked where it was going, so I let it be. But I think that conversation between the brothers led into a nice little moment for B & B, so I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope ya'll are, too. ;)**

**As always, I love to here from you guys, so please review!**


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